


Twilight

by Asphodel22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Don't fuck with the Norns, End of the World, GodOfChaos!Loki, M/M, MasterOfDeath!Harry, Mpreg (sortof), Nordic Myth, OdinYouFool, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 10:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3974641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asphodel22/pseuds/Asphodel22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry never wanted to pay the price for redemption, but he could not let injustice rule the world he had bought at so high a cost. In another world, Loki faces the consequences of his actions, but his final attempt to escape them may lead him to doom himself. When both their fates intertwine, nothing will ever be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A court of law and little lies

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, but that doesn't stop me from taking all my favorite characters and messing with them to the best (or worst) of my abilities. I apologize for all mistakes. Enjoy.

The court room was packed with wizards and witches, and the low murmur of the discussing Wizengamot was drowned out by the noise. The green-eyed man who was bound to the chair in the middle of the room watched their antics with a condescending smirk. He had stretched his legs and leant back as if the heavy chains that bound his wrists and ankles didn’t exist, and his contempt for the group of people who dared to judge him was more than plain.

Finally, the old witch in the middle slammed her hammer on the table, and the loud bang that followed quieted the room. ‘Loki Laufeyson,’ she said, standing up. ‘You have been accused of being a Deatheater, of using Unforgivables, and of the torture and murder of twenty-six people. Is there anything more you have to say, before we announce the ruling?’

His smirk widened, and few in the room doubted that the glint in his eyes was madness. ‘What I did, I did for a glorious cause! The only thing I regret is that I did not succeed.’

The eyes of the old witch turned cold, and her lips thinned in contempt. She raised her hands. ‘Very well. The accused has been found guilty of all charges raised against him. In the view of the atrocities of his crimes, and his obvious lack of remorse, we have decided that he deserves no less than the highest punishment: Loki Laufeyson, with the power invested in us, we hereby sentence you to death. Until your sentence is carried out, you shall remain in Azkaban. This session is closed.’ She once again slammed her hammer.

There was a movement among the spectators, and the witch, who had just sat down, looked up warily, almost resigned. ‘Yes, your Grace?’

‘Chief Warlock Marchbanks, I would like to offer the accused an opportunity to redeem himself.’

Marchbanks’ lips formed a thin line, and she studied the black haired wizard who had stepped forward disapprovingly. ‘Under the rights awarded to you by our ministry I cannot stop you, however, I would like you to consider who exactly it is you are offering such mercy to. This man does not deserve your compassion.’

‘That is only for me to judge, and for him to refuse or accept.’ Harry replied dispassionately. He turned to the man in the chair, who had been watching the proceedings with far more interest than he had paid to the rest of the trial.

‘I give you this choice:’ Harry said. ‘Serve me, as a servant bound by magic, and you shall live.’

The man watched him for a moment, his smile gone now, before he lowered his head. ‘I accept.’

Harry folded his hands in front of him. ‘My Lady.’

With a grimace of distaste, Marchbanks gestured, and the chains that bound the prisoner disappeared. ‘Kneel.’ she said, her wand raised.

Loki hesitated only a moment, before he slowly stood and then sank to his knees in front of the other wizard. When he looked up, his face was expressionless. Marchbanks started chanting, and both wizards were briefly enveloped in light.

‘You may take your slave now,’ the head of the Wizengamot said, disgust clear in her words.

Harry pulled a set of black manacles and a collar out of his robes. ‘Do you accept me as your Master?’

Loki swallowed, and for the first time there was something like fear in his eyes. ‘I do.’ he said hoarsely.

‘Hold up your hands.’

His hands trembled, but he obeyed. Harry closed the manacles around his wrists. He raised the collar, and Loki tensed, but stayed where he was and lowered his head. As soon as the collar closed around his neck, he collapsed with a hoarse cry. He curled into himself, his fists balled and eyes closed, clearly in pain.

‘Mister Potter, what is the meaning of this?’ asked Marchbanks, incensed. ‘While I have no say over what you do with your property, I do not appreciate such display in my courtroom!’

‘I had not expected him to react this badly,’ Harry said, crouching down next to the other man. He put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Can you get up?’

The other man whispered something only Harry could hear, and Harry stood up. ‘Get up, and follow me.’

Loki rose, shaking.

‘I apologize, my Lady,’ Harry said. ‘I do not expect I will bother you again anytime soon.’

‘I sincerely hope so,’ the witch replied coldly. ‘Please leave.’

Harry nodded, and left the courtroom with Loki following behind him. Outraged shouts accompanied them, and the Aurors had to step in when some of the spectators tried to attack them. Harry grabbed Loki and apparated as soon as they left the building.

They appeared in the entrance hall of a large manor, and the moment they materialized, Loki broke down and screamed, clawing at the collar around his neck.

Harry knelt down next to him and grabbed his hands, but the other man was much too strong for him. ‘Stop it!’ he said, and Loki obeyed with a cry, flattening his hands against the floor. Tears were streaming down his face.

‘What is happening?’ Harry asked. ‘You did not tell me it would be like this.’

Loki gasped for breath. ‘I’m sorry… Master.’ He gritted his teeth as he said it. ‘I’m fighting it, I can’t help it. There is nothing to be done until… until I break.’

Harry looked at him with a worried frown. ‘I do not want a mindless slave. I would have never agreed, had I known…’

Loki chuckled through the pain. ‘Yes. Thus I did not tell you. Leave me. Put me in the dungeons if you must. This will pass. Do not worry; my mind has withstood greater insults.’

Harry picked him up and hesitated for a moment, before he opened a door at the side of the hall and carried him down the stairs behind it. ‘How long will this last?’

Loki closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Days, weeks, years? I do not know. I was not born to be a slave, you realize.’

‘Years?’ Harry repeated, horrified. ‘I cannot let you be tortured like this for years!’

Loki chuckled again. ‘It is but a beat of a mayfly’s wings for me. But I shall endeavor to shorten the time, if you wish it, Master.’

Harry entered a stone room in the basement of the manor, and conjured a bed on which he placed Loki. After that he conjured restraints that bound the other man’s wrists and ankles to the frame. ‘Will that hold you? I do not want you to injure yourself.’

‘Your wish will hold me.’ Loki answered with a pained smile. ‘Please, leave. Have your elven creatures watch over me. You do not have to see this.’

Harry hesitated a moment. ‘Alright. If you need anything…’

Loki just shook his head. Harry lingered for a moment longer, but finally left the room and closed the door behind him.

Once his footsteps had faded, Loki screamed.

.

He must have lost consciousness at one point, for when he opened his eyes he woke to a blond man watching him. Loki could not help the feelings of shame and mortification that flooded him at the thought of a Midgardian seeing him this weak. Immediately, pain filled him again, reminding him that he should accept his Master’s wishes as law.

‘Are you thirsty?’ the man asked once the pain had abated and Loki had stopped screaming. He did not seem fazed by what he had witnessed, and Loki reminded himself that this was a former Deatheater, who had undoubtedly seen worse things. What was his name again? Right, Lucius, the father of the younger blond. Somehow, that made it easier to accept the water from his hand.

Loki did not need food and water like the Midgardians did, he could survive for a long time without either. Nevertheless, the cold liquid was soothing.

‘He sent you to watch?’ he asked.

Lucius considered him with cold grey eyes. ‘He sent me to help you,’ he said finally.

Loki stared at him for a moment. He had not expected that. ‘You cannot help me.’

The man smiled thinly. ‘That remains to be seen. In lieu of convincing you to accept our Master, I shall enjoy your misery.’

Loki laughed, almost hysterically. The fear that gripped him was icy cold like the waters of Jotunheim. He knew there was no choice, had known that ever since Odin had declared his sentence, and yet… That did not change the fear. He knew he had made mistakes. He should have never attacked Midgard, even though it was a worthless realm that Odin had all but forgotten before he sent Thor into exile. He should not have attacked Jotunheim, and least of all Thor. The last was probably the worst of all his crimes in the Allfather’s eyes. His mind had been clouded by rage, and now he was suffering for it.

‘Do your worst,’ he dared.

Lucius’ smile made him shiver, because it was one he had seen many times on his own face. The man trailed a finger along Loki’s face. ‘Our Master would not permit my _worst_. He likes you pretty. Nevertheless, I shall endeavor to make a lasting impression.’


	2. Five months earlier

The god of mischief wore a haughty smile as he was dragged before the court, in front of the man he had once called father. His heart clenched for a moment when his eyes fell upon the empty spot at the Allfather’s side, where Frigga had once stood. He squashed the feeling ruthlessly. Perhaps it was good that she was gone. She had been the only soul that bound him to this place, the only one he had felt indebted to, despite everything. Now, the final threads had been cut. Loki felt nothing but contempt for the old man before him.

‘We had planned to be lenient with you, despite your crimes…’ the Allfather began.

Loki could not help himself, he laughed. Lenient? They had planned to imprison him for eternity in a little white cell, to throw away the key and forget him. If Frigga had not brought him books… She was gone now. Fear gripped him for a moment and he gasped for breath. Who would speak for him now? No-one. What would they do to him, unfettered in their malice?

One of the guards slammed an elbow in his side and he quieted, staring at the old man with hatred. He had killed his real father for this man, desperate for a love that was impossible. He had been blind, stupid. All he wanted now was to tear this place down, destroy their golden city, and smash their arrogance, until even the last of the Aesir understood what loss felt like.

Odin considered him for a moment, and his gaze hardened. ‘You have tried to escape your punishment, and have once again tried to attack your King, and steal rights that do not belong to you.’

‘You are not my King!’ hissed Loki. ‘Make up your mind, old man. Either I am your son, a prince of this realm, and have every right to claim the throne since Thor refused it, or I am nothing like that, and you have no right to judge me. Either way, this trial is a farce.’ He spat on the floor.

‘You have lost your right to the throne with your atrocious actions,’ countered Odin. ‘Your only way to redemption would have been to accept your punishment, but you could not even do that. As it is, we have no choice but to decide on a new punishment, something that will forever curb the danger that you represent for the realms.’

‘You plan to execute me?’

‘So that you can continue your mischief in the underworld, helped by your unnatural offspring? Certainly not.’ Odin rose and raised Gungnir. The Infinity Gauntlet flew into his hand and the gems started to glow brightly. ‘I call upon the Norns to seal your punishment; this geas I cast upon you: That you shall find a master to rule you within six Midgardian moon cycles, or be forever trapped in the cage of Skadi.’

Loki stared at Odin in horror as the magic he had summoned slammed into him and he could feel it turn and twist into his very self, until it was like a collar choking him, a collar bound to his very soul. While he thought this, a real collar and black manacles appeared in front of Odin and the Allfather grabbed them out of the air and held them out to him. ‘When you have decided who your Master shall be, you only have to speak the words. He will put these on you, and they will ensure that your body, mind and magic obey him. The guards shall take you back to your cell to think. Decide wisely.’

Loki’s fingers clasped the black metal. His hands were shaking. He could not believe Odin had done this.

Thor stepped forward, and Loki knew what he would say before he said it. It was all written in his face, the false compassion, the arrogant pity. ‘Brother… if you would consider… I would take good care of you…’

‘You!’ screamed Loki, overwhelmed by rage. Undoubtedly this had been the Allfather’s plan all along. What quaint revenge, turning the wayward trickster into Thor’s slave. ‘Never! I’d rather suffer Skadi’s poison!’

He tore at his chains, and to his surprise, as well as the guards, they broke. Not questioning his luck, Loki slammed into them, turned invisible, and tore out of the hall before anyone could react. He raced towards the newly rebuild Bifrost. It did not surprise him that Heimdall waited for him when he arrived there, and his illusions faded. ‘Tell them they will regret this!’

Heimdall raised his sword to prevent him from crossing, but Loki just laughed and turned into a falcon, flying over him too high to reach. He could feel Hugin and Munin following him, and beat his wings faster and faster, until he could see the vast emptiness between the realms below him. For a moment fear gripped him, but it soon hardened into resolve. He had done this once. He could do it again. He could find the paths he had once walked again. He turned back into his own form, hovering for a moment on the strength of his magic alone, and looked back to the golden spires of Asgard. He could see the boats coming after him, and grinned. They were slow, much too slow. ‘I will see you at twilight,’ he whispered maliciously. Then, he let himself fall into the abyss. Laughing.  


	3. First rooster's crow, she whispers

The next time Loki woke, it was in a white room, next to a woman whose face was hidden in the hood of her grey cloak. He did not need to see her face to know who she was. ‘Hel, my beautiful daughter…’ he whispered. ‘Have I finally come to you?’

He tried to move, but could not.

‘Not yet, father.’ Hel pushed her hood back. Her single eye studied him. ‘Not for a long time yet.’

Loki closed his eyes and swallowed. ‘Thus I shall be free again to take my revenge.’

Hel turned to the side and her skeletal hand touched his hair. ‘Is that why you bound yourself to him? Because you thought you would be free once he died? The Norns surely appreciate irony.’ She sounded sad.

Loki kissed her dead fingers. ‘What do you mean? Is that not true?’

‘I do not know if it would be true had you bound yourself to a mortal,’ she said with a sigh. ‘As it is, the man you have bound yourself to is not mortal, even if he does not know it himself. You have bound yourself to the one soul that is untouchable, and thus, to the one being that will outlast everything in existence, even the Aesir. A true immortal. I’m sorry, father.’ She smirked. ‘Master of Death and Chaos, and he does not even know it. What were the Norns thinking, I wonder? Ragnarok is bound to be interesting, this time.’

Loki stared at her, reeling with this information. He could not comprehend that he had apparently enslaved himself _for eternity_. Even being bound to Thor would have been better, for he knew that Thor would one day perish at the hand of his son. ‘This cannot be true.’

She watched him with pity. ‘Have I ever lied to you?’

Loki shook his head, dazed. ‘Is that my fate?’ he asked with despair.

Hel smiled. ‘We all are bound to fate. You may never be free, but have you ever been? This life may suit you better than your old one. One day, your Master will realize that he will never grow old. All he knows will perish, his friends, his family, his loved ones, until only you remain. What do you think will happen then?’

Loki shivered. He did not know Harry enough to foretell this. He had chosen the wizard because he seemed to be a kind and just man, but even the best men might be corrupted by abyss. ‘You think I could hold him back if he chooses the path of destruction? _I_?’ Loki laughed at the ridiculous thought.

Hel merely watched him. ‘If you manage to draw back from that path yourself, who would be better suited for that task?’

‘ _If_ I manage.’ Loki could not see it. ‘Chaos and destruction are what I am.’

‘Chaos is what you are, chaos and lies, not destruction. They have been confused for far too long.’ Hel sighed. ‘I shall give you a gift. I cannot undo what Odin has done. He has called upon the Norns themselves, and not even I can match their power. However, I can temper the curse. You will never fully submit to the spell, and now you shall not have to. You will have to obey in body and magic, but your mind shall remain free. It is both mine and our Master’s wish, and so it shall be granted. Use it well.’ Her lips, half red and luscious, half dead and rotten, kissed his forehead. ‘Farewell, father. We shall see each other again at the end of times.’

‘Hel!’ Loki called out to her, but she was already fading. ‘I love you, my child.’

His daughter smiled, and vanished.

Loki sobbed when he awoke. It was like losing her all over again. A hand stroked his hair, and he sat up and clung to the man without even looking who it was. Arms embraced him. Loki barely noticed that the restraints that had bound him were gone. ‘Shush…’ said a silky voice.

Loki took a shuddering breath. ‘Why?’ he whispered.

‘I know loss.’ Lucius replied. ‘Accept it. Move past it.’

Loki pushed him back. ‘I do not like to be vulnerable.’ He was surprised at his own honesty.

Lucius nodded. ‘Get used to it, because from now on, you will be vulnerable, you will be dependent, you will be powerless. Let your old life go, and you will see the opportunities that are still left to you.’

‘As you have?’ Loki asked spitefully, hoping to get a rise out of Lucius.

However, the blond man did not react to the challenge. ‘As I have.’


	4. An assembly of the righteous

Loki crawled towards his new master, taking care to make his movements slow and languid, almost seductive. He would never be a truly submissive creature, but he could pretend.

Harry Potter was sitting on a throne… there was really no other name to call it, a huge, wing-backed chair standing on a dais… and the younger Malfoy was kneeling at his feet, studying Loki with a thoughtful gaze, his grey eyes half-lidded. There was a true submissive, oddly strong in his freely given surrender. Loki’s eyes briefly flit to Lucius Malfoy, who was sitting on a chair to Potter’s left, wondering.

‘You will not use your magic without my _explicitly stated_ permission. You may use the one spell to hide yourself from Heimdall’s eyes,’ Potter said.

Loki bowed his head. ‘Yes, Master.’ He had expected nothing else, they had discussed this beforehand. This was only for confirmation and reassurance. Potter had told him what he wanted for his favor, and Loki had agreed.

‘You will not try to escape.’

‘Yes, Master.’

‘You will not harm me or any I care about.’

‘Yes, Master.’

‘You will never lie to me, or try to deceive me.’

‘Yes, Master.’

Loki smiled and looked at the eight men and women sitting left and right of Potter.

‘From now on, I will precede any order with the words ‘I order you’. If I don’t, you may treat my words as a suggestion.’

‘I understand.’ Loki considered Potter. The spell would enforce orders, and punish him painfully for going against them. Up to this point, everything Potter said to him had required perfect obedience. With his last order, Potter had given him the freedom to disobey him.

‘You will call me Master.’

‘I will try.’

The dark-haired man on Potter’s right chuckled. ‘It’s always the same, isn’t it?’

Potter grinned. ‘At least the smart ones get it immediately. I remember you did, Severus.’

‘I believe I might have even said the same words.’

Loki studied the man curiously, then he smirked and bowed forward to kiss Potter’s feet. ‘You will find that I can be perfectly obedient if properly motivated, my Master.’

Potter was obviously amused. ‘We will see.’ He turned serious. ‘I will tell you the same thing I told everyone else here. I do not believe in the ministry’s brand of justice, this kangaroo court calling for death no matter the crime. I do however believe that crimes deserve to be punished. The crimes you were sentenced for were fake, but we all know that there are crimes you committed that are very real. You nearly destroyed a whole muggle city and killed several hundred people in the process. Do you deny that you are guilty of that crime?’

Loki leant back on his heels. ‘Of course not.’

‘Do you deny that you should be punished for it?’

Loki trailed his finger over the black manacles around his wrists. ‘I believe I have already been punished. That being said, maybe for you that was a crime, but for me it was merely collateral damage of my bid to claim this planet as my fief. My brother has killed far more for less. As a matter of fact I could name a dozen Aesir who have killed more for less. I question your right to judge me.’

‘As your master I have every right to judge you,’ Potter said with a bored undertone. ‘However, we will consider your words in your defense, as they are obviously the truth as you believe it.’

Loki moved back, slightly surprised. He had not considered this advantage of Potter’s order. ‘I may defend myself?’ he asked, a little bit unsure.

‘Of course. You are _supposed_ to defend yourself. We cannot pass true judgment without true understanding, now can we?’

Loki considered that. ‘Many years ago the Aesir battled with the Jotnar for control over this realm,’ he said. ‘The Aesir won this battle, and their king Odin stole me from my true family to raise me in ignorance, believing myself to be his own son. When I found out I was angry. I wanted to claim Midgard, because…’ He hesitated. There was a pain in his chest that slowly increased. ‘One of the reasons why I wanted to claim Midgard,’ he corrected himself, ‘was that I wanted to achieve what my true father had not. I wanted to show Odin that his plot had failed.’

‘It seems to me that this was only a minor reason,’ said the dark-haired man.

Loki glared at him. ‘I also wanted it because my brother Thor cherishes this realm so much. I wanted to claim it to hurt him.’

‘I notice that you still call him brother,’ a brown-haired witch sitting next to the elder Malfoy remarked.

Loki clenched his fists. ‘We grew up together; it is a habit that is hard to break.’

‘If I understand this right, Odin denounced you as a son, and your true father never claimed you,’ a red-haired man said. ‘What right do you have to make a bid for this realm?’

‘Odin never denounced me. In fact, he explicitly said that I only lost my right to the throne of Asgard because of my actions on Midgard. I wonder, however, if he would have said the same had I succeeded.’ It was something he really wondered, Loki thought bitterly. If he had succeeded, would the Allfather have welcomed him back? Or would he have ignored his achievements, like he had many times before? Loki had once paid with his voice for Mjölnir, Draupnir and Gungnir, and Odin had never even thanked him, in fact he had done nothing to stop the dwarfs from enacting their revenge. He had never thanked him for Sleipnir either, not that he had ever treated Sleipnir like anything other than a horse. Most likely he would have taken Midgard away from him as soon as he had gained it, and let Thor do whatever he wanted to do in retribution. He had been a fool to even try, but rage had consumed him, and Thanos had been very convincing. ‘Thanos, the leader of the Chitauri, convinced me that I could easily take Midgard with his help.’

‘Thanos,’ Potter whispered, suddenly looking at him with an intense gaze that didn’t seem to be entirely him. Something old and primordial lurked behind his eyes, and Loki involuntarily shivered. ‘You did not tell me that you had contact with Thanos.’

‘He is biding his time, planning to destroy the universe to impress his lover; in other words he is completely insane, but he was useful to me. What is it to you?’

‘Did he try to compel you?’

‘I am a god!’ shouted Loki angrily, enraged and disconcerted by the accusation. ‘He did not try. He did not have to.’

Potter raised his hand. ‘I had to ask.’ He traded looks with the people sitting next to him.

‘He is guilty,’ the red-haired man said. ‘He admits it. No matter his motives, he killed those people without remorse.’

‘It was a war to which he had a right as Odin’s son,’ Lucius argued. ‘These people were victims of war. That is not the same as murder.’

‘And yet, he started this war out of greed,’ the brunette witch said.

‘Are we charging him with reckless endangerment?’ the younger Malfoy asked.

‘You cannot be serious,’ the redhead said. ‘This was clearly murder.’

‘I don’t think that’s so clear, Ron,’ Potter said. ‘Who of you is in favor of charging him with murder?’

The brunette witch and the black-haired man raised their hands, as well as the redhead and the large, blond man sitting next to him.

‘Five to four against,’ Potter said.

‘You have to be kidding me,’ the redhead mumbled. ‘Luna, what the hell?’

‘He has pretty eyes,’ the blonde witch sitting next to the brunette answered dreamily. ‘The wrackspurts like him.’

The redhead groaned and let his head thump against the back of his chair.

‘He still directed attacks against civilians, which is a war crime,’ the brunette said.

‘The only civilians I attacked were scientists, and all of them survived.’

The brunette frowned. ‘That cannot possibly be true.’

‘It very well might be, Mrs. Weasley.’ Lucius seemed to enjoy this. ‘All the deaths seem to have occurred during fighting between Loki’s forces and muggle military.’

Mrs. Weasley pressed her lips together and looked at Potter. ‘Do you agree with this?’

‘Well, he gravely injured at least one person who was a civilian, and mind-controlled several others, which would be equivalent to the use of the Imperius curse.’

‘I have to disagree,’ the black-haired man said. ‘The use of artifacts or potions for mind control is not equivalent to the Imperius curse. It is traditionally judged on a case by case basis dependent on the harm done.’

‘He compelled them to aid in the mass destruction of a city!’ the redhead said angrily.

‘True…’ Potter said pensively. ‘However, _they_ were not hurt.’

‘This is bullshit,’ the blond man said, leaning forward. ‘Even if all the deaths are collateral damage, it is still reckless endangerment, if not manslaughter, and the mind control did certainly do serious harm, if only mentally. He tried to kill at least one muggle, which is attempted murder, and he ripped out the eye of another, if that’s not an infliction of grievous bodily harm I don’t know what is. There is no way this guy is not guilty.’

‘I never said he was not guilty, I only want to be clear about what he is guilty of. Nice summary, Neville. Can we agree on that?’

‘I contest the manslaughter,’ Lucius said, smiling. ‘It implies intent.’

‘Involuntary manslaughter, then,’ the redhead said through gritted teeth.

Lucius just nodded.

‘Again, can we agree on that?’

All of them raised their hands. ‘Then it’s unanimous.’ Potter looked at Loki. ‘What do you say?’

Loki felt tempted to laugh. ‘This is all very entertaining, but I don’t know what the purpose of it is. I have already been convicted.’

‘Do you agree that you are guilty of those charges?’

He thought about it, and felt still the temptation to laugh. Involuntary manslaughter? Voluntary extermination of ants was more like it. However, if he agreed that these were people he endangered and killed without specific intent that might well be true. He had not planned to kill them, he simply had not cared if they survived or not. ‘I agree.’

‘Then what would be the appropriate sentence?’

‘Considering the amount of victims, I would expect at least twenty-five years for the manslaughter charge alone’, a black-haired witch said, who had been silent until now. ‘The mind control is somewhat ambiguous, as Severus said. It might well be waved, as has happened with Amortentia before. However, the harm done to the civilians should add another fifteen years.’

‘I concur,’ Mrs.Weasley said.

‘As do I,’ said the older blonde witch who sat next to the dreamy one.

‘Forty years?’ Potter asked. ‘Is that what we agree on?’

One after another, they all nodded.

‘In a functioning society, this would be forty years in Azkaban,’ Potter said. ‘However, as you pointed out, you have already been convicted. In addition, your punishment was issued not for the charges we brought against you, but treason, which has nothing to do with us. This means, however, that your condition will not count against your punishment. Take Lucius, for example. He was sentenced to twenty-five years, but we took ten years off of that sentence, because he will never be truly free. We will not do the same for you. So this is the choice you have: You can spend forty years in prison, or you can serve me as a slave for the same time. After that, you will be no longer required to act as a servant, and although you will always have to obey me due to the spell, I will not give you orders, and try to give you as much freedom as possible. What do you say?’

Forty years were nothing for Loki, and he briefly imagined spending that time in a tiny cell. He would sleep, and the time would pass before he noticed it. However, he remembered his daughter’s words – he would never be free, no matter what Potter promised. Also, he would miss the actions of this amusing band of people, who were without doubt up to some interesting things. Could he be a servant instead? He had been many things in his long life, and this might be a role which could still entertain him. It would allow him to wreak havoc among this merry group, since Potter had never said anything about lying to and manipulating his friends… He would certainly not be bored.

Loki held out his hands and bowed theatrically. ‘I will serve you to the best of my abilities, my Master.’

‘He will be worse than the twins ever were, you realize,’ said the redhead, standing up. ‘Worse than the Marauders, even.’

The black-haired man sneered. ‘He can try.’

‘We can use some entertainment.’ Potter said. ‘Draco.’

The blond rose and beckoned Loki. ‘Come with me.’


	5. Sunlight on a broken column

_Once upon a time in Hogwarts_

Harry walked up the stairs to the Astronomy tower, and tucked the Marauders’ map back into his pocket before he opened the door.

Draco Malfoy was sitting at the edge of the platform, his eyes fixed on the forbidden forest. He tensed when the door opened and Harry stepped onto the platform. ‘What do you want, Potter?’

‘How did you know it was me?’ Harry asked, astonished. He took off his invisibility cloak.

Malfoy turned around and sneered. ‘I would recognize your bumbling steps anywhere, golden boy. Have you come to finish what you started?’

‘No!’ Harry gulped. ‘I came to apologize.’

Malfoy laughed. ‘Really? Saint Potter needs my forgiveness to be able to face himself in the mirror, is that it? Well, _not granted_ , fool. Get lost.’

‘Let me help you,’ Harry said desperately. He was not really sure why this was so important to him. In a way, Draco was right; he could not live with what he had done. He had almost killed another person, not in self-defense, but because he was an idiot who used spells without knowing what they did. He had to do something to make it right.

‘Help me?’ Draco laughed again, but there was a slightly hysterical edge to his voice. ‘You can’t help me. No-one can.’

‘Then let me make it up to you,’ Harry pleaded. ‘Just tell me what you want me to do.’

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. His eyes narrowed. ‘I will consider it. Now _go away_.’

Harry nodded. When he trudged back down the seemingly endless stairs, he felt incredibly happy, although he had not really accomplished anything. Maybe, he thought, this would be the beginning of something. What, he did not know, but he had a feeling it would be amazing. He did not think about that too much, because if he had, he would have thought himself insane.

.

Harry clutched the note in his fingers, hoping that this had not been one of Malfoy’s plots to get him into trouble. It was long past curfew, and the seventh floor was empty. Suddenly, the air shimmered and Malfoy appeared. He had used a disillusionment charm. His face was cold and unreadable. He held out a book which was open in the middle.

‘Before we do this, I want some guarantees that you won’t tell tales. Also, I know you are abysmal at occlumency, and this could ruin me.’

Harry looked at the book. The opened page described a ritual for keeping secrets, which apparently ensured that the people involved in the ritual would not betray it.

Malfoy drew a dagger and made a shallow cut on his hand, then held it out to him. Harry hesitated for a moment, but then he copied the action. Malfoy clasped his hand, mixing their blood, and drew his wand, placing the tip on their joint hands. Harry put the book in his pocket and did the same.

‘Repeat after me:’ Malfoy said. ‘I will tell no-one of these meetings. I will tell no-one what happens in this room between us. It will be our secret.’

Harry gulped. This was dangerous. What if Malfoy planned to harm him? However, he had promised to make it up to him… He made his decision and repeated the words.

A shimmering line of light wrapped around their joined hands and disappeared. Malfoy smirked, and Harry felt unsettled.

‘How very brave you are,’ Malfoy mocked. ‘Well, come on in, then.’

The door to the room of requirement appeared and Harry followed Malfoy inside.

When the door closed behind him and he saw the room he froze, and seriously hoped that this was Malfoy’s idea of a joke. In the middle of the room was a St. Andrew’s cross, and the shelves on the walls were filled with whips and other implements whose purpose he would rather not know.

Malfoy pulled his robe over his head. ‘Tell me, have you ever fucked a man, Potter?’

‘What?’ Harry squeaked. He could not be serious.

Malfoy studied him with malicious glee. He took off his shirt, and Harry’s eyes we’re unwillingly drawn to the ugly red scar that crossed his chest. Aside from that, he also could not help but notice that Malfoy was outrageously fit for someone who had given up quidditch and had hardly eaten one full meal since the beginning of the school year.

‘You probably wonder what I was up to all this time,’ Malfoy said conversationally, loosening his belt while he was talking. ‘Truth is, the Dark Lord has ordered me to kill Dumbledore. If I don’t, he will kill my parents. As a matter of fact, he has tortured my mother every time I failed.’

‘ _What_?’ Harry said again, rather stupidly. Then he suddenly realized what Malfoy was telling him. ‘It was you!’ he shouted angrily. ‘You almost killed Katie! And Ron!’

‘Not on purpose. My target was always Dumbledore.’

‘As if that makes it better!’

Malfoy studied him for a moment, and then shrugged. ‘I suppose it doesn’t.’ He took off his trousers.

Harry’s eyes finally also noticed something else, the black Dark Mark on Malfoy’s left forearm.

‘I was right about you!’ he hissed.

Malfoy clapped contemptuously. ‘You were, but no-one believed you. And now you can’t tell anyone that you had a really good reason for trying to kill me.’

Harry sobered. ‘No, I hadn’t. Even if I had known then what I do know now that would not have made it right.’

Malfoy leant against the wall and toed off his boots. He was only wearing shorts now, and it was utterly distracting, and keeping Harry from feeling the righteous anger he so richly deserved. ‘I suppose that means you still want to make it up to me.’ Malfoy smirked. ‘I’m not surprised. You are a Gryffindor, after all. So, Gryffindor poster boy, _be brave_ , and answer my question. Judging from your looks the answer is probably yes.’

‘Wh…’ Harry interrupted himself and felt blood rush to his face. ‘No, I haven’t! What kind of question is that? Wait, does that mean you are gay?’

Malfoy rolled his eyes. ‘Potter, you are truly the densest bloke I have ever had the misfortune of meeting, and that’s saying something, considering I grew up with Crabbe and Goyle. Yes, I’m gay, and you can’t tell anyone about that, either. Life is a bitch, isn’t it? Think about all the jokes Weasley and you will miss out on.’

‘I wouldn’t have joked about it!’ Harry protested. However, if he was honest, he probably would have if he had found out another way. Malfoy was just such a ponce. He winced. A year ago he certainly would have, but that was before he had met Marc over the summer. After Sirius’ death, he had walked around a lot in Little Whinging, and he had found a little alternative bookstore that also had a computer room. He had stayed there for some time, because Dudley and his gang would have never set foot in it, and Marc had explained the computers to him. Harry had really liked him, but when Marc had tried to kiss him one day he had balked. He had never thought that he could be attracted to other men before that moment, and even then it took a number of days of denial before he admitted to himself that he had felt something for Marc. Unfortunately, by then, the summer break was over, and he had never seen him again. He could certainly admit to himself that he thought Draco Malfoy was attractive, in an utterly shallow, lust-based kind of way. ‘Are you saying that you want to fuck me? Forget about that. I’m not that desperate!’

A brief expression of hurt crossed Malfoy’s face, and Harry suddenly felt like a tool. ‘I did not mean it that way… Look, I think you are attractive, but I’m not going to let you fuck me because I made a mistake.’

‘You _are_ gay,’ Malfoy said with glee.

Harry winced. ‘Bisexual actually, and you can’t tell anyone about it. Isn’t life a bitch?’ he said.

Malfoy laughed. A genuine laugh, and Harry was astonished how much that transformed him. He suddenly felt heat pooling in his belly, and quickly thought of Snape in a dress. He would not give Malfoy the satisfaction.

The blond smirked. He had obviously noticed. He took off his shorts and grinned at Harry's stare. ‘Relax, Potter, I don’t want your virgin ass. I’m merely telling you that I would not mind if _you_ wanted to fuck _me_.’ 

Harry gaped at him.

Malfoy turned away and looked at the St. Andrew’s cross. ‘With all the trying to kill someone and almost being killed myself life has been very stressful recently, as you can surely understand. I need something to help me relax, but it has been difficult to get what I need… Fortunately for me, you volunteered.’

‘Volunteered for what?’ Harry asked, finally getting annoyed with Malfoy’s game. ‘Say what the hell you want from me!’

Malfoy walked over to one of the shelves and took a dark brown leather thing from it, which looked like a strap that had been cut in the middle so that it had two tails. He came back to Harry and held it out to him. ‘I want you to hit me.’

Harry took the strap uncomprehendingly. ‘Why?’

‘Because it helps me relax.’ Malfoy stepped towards the cross and placed his hands on the beams. ‘I don’t have to spell everything out to you, I hope.’

Harry stared at him. He looked at the smooth, white skin and imagined the welts the strap would raise on it. It was tempting, so very tempting… But it also felt wrong. ‘I want to make it up to you that I hurt you, and you want me to hurt you more?’

‘Yes.’ Malfoy sounded impatient. ‘What’s the big deal? You hate me, don’t you? I just told you, I’m a Death Eater, I’m trying to kill Dumbledore. This should be easy for you.’

‘I don’t hate you,’ Harry said, and surprised himself with the truth of these words.

Malfoy turned around and studied him. ‘Well, you should. You want to make it up to me, I just told you how. If you can’t do it, leave.’

Harry felt anger rise in him at the challenge. ‘Watch me.’ He grabbed the braided end of the strap and weighed it in his hand.

Malfoy turned away and visibly braced himself. ‘That’s more like it. I started thinking you’re not cut out for this.’

Harry hit him, and Malfoy flinched and finally shut up. A red welt blossomed across his back, just as beautiful as he had imagined. He deserved this, Harry thought. It felt right. He hit him again, and, as an afterthought, cast ‘Incarcerus’ to bind his hands to the cross. Malfoy did not protest. The git probably enjoyed it. He hit him again, harder this time, and relished in the gasp that tore from the blond. He continued until Malfoy’s whole back and the back of his legs were tinted red, and one lash broke the skin and drew blood. Malfoy never asked him to stop. If he had, Harry would have stopped, but as he didn’t, Harry knew he wanted it, even though he was screaming in pain. It was exhilarating.

Harry stepped close to Malfoy and let the strap fall to the floor. ‘Was that what you wanted?’ He asked, squeezing Malfoy’s ass. ‘Did you get off on this?’

He pushed a finger into Malfoy’s asshole. It was dry, and much tighter than Ginny’s pussy. Malfoy shivered, but did not say anything. Harry opened his trousers. He had to be crazy to want this, but he did. He was hard as a rock, and his cock was wet with pre-come when he took it out. ‘I’m going to fuck you,’ he whispered, ‘and you are going to take it and thank me for it. It’s what you want, isn’t it?’ He grabbed Malfoy’s hair and pulled his head back. ‘Isn’t it, bitch?’

‘Yes,’ Malfoy whimpered, and the single word did more to him than all of Ginny’s sweet promises of love.

Harry pushed inside him and Malfoy gasped. It was rough, impossibly tight, and Harry grabbed Malfoy's shoulder to keep himself from coming too fast. Malfoy lent his head back against him. 'Move. Please.'

At first it almost hurt, but it became easier after a while and Malfoy moved back against him. Harry did not last long.

When he had pulled out he released the ropes and Malfoy tumbled to the floor.

‘What do you say?’ he asked. He cast a cleaning charm without ever taking his eyes from Malfoy, and tucked himself back in.

Malfoy stared up at him, his pupils blown so wide that his eyes seemed black. ‘Thank you.’

Harry looked at him. He was flushed, and his dick was hard and leaking. ‘If that is all, I’m leaving,’ he said cruelly. Malfoy said nothing, so he turned around and did just that.

When he was back in his dorm Harry lay awake in his bed and tried to make sense of what happened. It scared him how much he had enjoyed hurting Malfoy, but the other man had wanted it, so it couldn’t be that bad, right? Right. It was probably the first stirring of madness and soon he would be an utter nutter like Lestrange. Or maybe he was already crazy like a bag of cats, but if he was, Malfoy was, too. He got off on being beaten, for Christ’s sake. Harry shuddered. All he could think about was that he wanted to do it again, and that he did not regret it. Not one bit. Maybe the only way to deal with this kind of crazy was to embrace it. It sounded good to him.

.

Harry was at the same time surprised and not surprised when Malfoy slipped him a note telling him to meet him again. He refused to admit to himself how eager he was to repeat their last experience. When Ron asked him if something was up, he realized he was not as good at hiding his anticipation as he had thought, and when he looked around to the Slytherin table he met Malfoy’s knowing smirk. Harry narrowed his eyes. He looked forward to making this smirk disappear.

This time, Malfoy was already waiting for him in the room, and he was completely naked.

‘Don’t you worry that someone else might surprise you?’ Harry said a bit irritated. ‘You never know, I might have brought company.’

Malfoy chuckled. ‘How surprisingly kinky your near-virgin mind is, Potter. What a lovely surprise. Your mudblood friends would be scandalized if they knew.’

‘Shut up.’

Malfoy grinned. ‘Make me.’

.

They never actually talked much about it, they just continued meeting, and Harry tried whatever implements in the room caught his fancy. Malfoy never complained. On the contrary, he became more and more pliant as time went on, and easily did whatever Harry told him to do. Harry enjoyed it in a way he had never before enjoyed anything before. With Malfoy, he could channel all his frustration and his rage into something cathartic, without any regret. It was easy because Malfoy obviously craved the pain and humiliation. Sometimes he asked himself why. Malfoy only mocked him when he asked him, so he stopped trying to get answers from him. Nevertheless, he had started to see him differently. He even started to like him. Then, one day, Malfoy told him that he had found a way to bring Death Eaters into the castle, and that there would be an attack soon.

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Harry said angrily. ‘I can’t do anything about it, because of your stupid spell!’

Malfoy just shrugged. ‘Maybe I enjoy your helpless anger. You look so pretty when you are angry.’

Harry flogged him bloody and then left him lying on the floor.

The next day, Dumbledore called him to tell him he had found a Horcrux. He gave his friends his Felix Felicis just in case, and it went downhill from there.

Later, when they were on the run und he was looking for groceries in a muggle town, he found a small store that sold some of the items he had used on Malfoy in the room. He had been using back alleys just in case snatchers were around, and he was taking his time because Ron and Hermione were constantly arguing. The sight of the store was both intriguing and intimidating, and after looking at it for a while he gathered his courage and went in. It was full of things he had never seen before, some which he would have liked to try on Malfoy, and some that scared or confused him. The store clerk, a dark haired young man with numerous tattoos and piercings, watched him while he was browsing, and seemed amused when he finally picked up some books.

‘I’m new to this,’ Harry said to explain himself, and immediately blushed.

The clerk smiled, but did not mock him. ‘You will only know if you like it if you try it,’ he said with a smile.

Harry bit his lip. Just leafing through the books and magazines had told him there was a whole culture around what Malfoy and he had done, and he knew nothing about it. ‘I did…’ he confessed. ‘I just didn’t really know what I was doing.’

The black-haired man frowned. ‘That can be quite dangerous, dear. I hope no-one was hurt.’

‘No… at least not more than they wanted to be.’ Harry said it with conviction, but after he had said it, he suddenly felt doubts. Would Malfoy have told him if he was truly hurt? Did he really know what he was doing? He had seemed utterly confident, but he had never told him that there were other people doing these things, that there were rules to it.

The clerk looked at him thoughtfully. Finally, he leant his head to the side and grinned. ‘You know what? I like you. You have this intriguing vibe about you. If you are really interested in learning more about this, there is a little club downtown. It’s open Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Come by, and there will be someone to show you the ropes.’ He kissed two black manicured fingers, grinned, and handed him a card together with his purchases.

Harry took the card and thanked him, but he didn’t plan on going there. They were on the run after all, and he could not afford such distractions or delays.

Time went on, and they made little to no progress with finding Horcruxes. Harry started reading the books, which he had shrunken to hide them from Ron and Hermione, because awkward questions were the last thing they needed with all the tension between them (or maybe it was just because he was embarrassed).

He learned that muggles thought that what he and Malfoy had done needed trust between the two parties involved, and that there were such things as negotiations and safe words. He learned that there were places to hit someone that were safe, and others where even a weak blow could cause serious injury. And he learned that men were supposed to use lube when they had sex – and why had Malfoy not ever told him this? He had always been slick after the first time, and Harry assumed now that he had prepared himself or had used a spell, but that first time he had probably really hurt him, and he had never said anything. Had he thought he had done it on purpose? How fucked up was that?

One day Hermione and Ron were arguing again, and he told them he would go looking for supplies, which they hardly acknowledged. He was sure they would not miss him if he was gone for a few hours, so after he got the supplies they needed he apparated to the place on the store clerk’s card.

It was another back alley, and an unassuming door which he would have never noticed if he had not had the address. The bouncer let him in when he showed him the card and told him where he got it. He met the store clerk in the entrance hall, who greeted him with a wide grin and told him that his name was Stefan. He explained to Harry that the club was a place where gay men ‘with an alternative lifestyle’ could meet and play. There were only a handful of people in the club when Harry arrived, and he had the feeling they were all looking at him. He tried his best to hide how insecure he felt, but Stefan noticed it anyway, and he introduced him to the other men. Stefan knew everyone, and Harry soon found out that he was one of the owners of the club. He was very upbeat and easygoing, knew stories about everyone, and told them with a wink and a laugh. It helped Harry to feel at ease, and he was quickly included in conversations when the other men realized Stefan liked him. He would have been tempted to lie about his inexperience, but it was the first thing Stefan told everyone about him, and although it was embarrassing he was in the end happy that he had. He had thought he would be ridiculed for it; instead, the men gave him advice and even offered to play with him to teach him ‘a thing or two’. He took them up on it.

Hermione and Ron occasionally wondered where he went, but they accepted his explanation that he needed some air, and trusted him to be careful. In a world where everything felt out of control, the club became Harry’s sanctuary.

It was odd to see Malfoy again after all this time when they were finally caught by snatchers. Harry was surprised that he did not identify them, since he was absolutely sure that he had recognized him. Malfoy looked sick and desperate, and he could admit now that he felt compassion for him. In a twisted way, Malfoy had always tried to do what he thought was right, but he constantly failed. Harry could tell that he wanted to help them, but he was too afraid to act – and yet, he risked his life and that of his parents by lying. Harry pitied him, and he wanted to help him. That was the explanation he told himself later when he asked himself why he slipped Malfoy the card of the club when he came to the dungeons to bring Griphook to Bellatrix. But if he was honest, he only wanted to see him again.

It did not work, however. After Dobby’s death, he did not have any chance to leave on his own. The next time he saw Malfoy, it was at Hogwarts, where he tried to deliver him to Voldemort.

This made it all the more surprising when Malfoy asked for him after he was imprisoned.


	6. Things that fall apart

The blond rose and beckoned Loki. ‘Come with me.’

‘Wait,’ Lucius said. ‘You are going to use him as another concubine?’

Potter smiled. ‘He has some unique abilities.’

Loki froze and stared at them. ‘ _What_? That was not part of our deal!’ Draco tugged at his arm, but he ignored him.

‘It is now,’ Potter said coldly. ‘You will not use your superior strength against Draco, ever. That is an order. And you will obey him as you do me. That is also an order.’

‘No!’ Draco pulled him away and Loki struggled weakly against him. ‘No!’

‘Stop this nonsense,’ Draco hissed. ‘We won’t hurt you.’

Loki let himself be dragged out of the room and into a set of chambers that had to be Potter’s. The furniture was rich and lavish, and Draco dragged him down on a thick red cushion that sat in front of a row of mahogany bookcases and next to a fireplace. He studied him for a few moments.

‘What is it you are afraid of?’ he asked finally. ‘According to legend, you have slept with many people, immortal and human, male and female.’

Loki moved away from the boy, but did not leave the cushion. ‘Is this what I’m supposed to become?’ he hissed with disgust. ‘A pet?’

Draco leant back into the cushion, which was very thick and soft and tempted to lean into it, but Loki refused to be swayed. ‘It is what I prefer.’ He stroked his hand over the velvet fabric. ‘I enjoy being cared for.’

Loki wrapped his hands around his knees. ‘And to how many years of this have you been sentenced?’

Draco shook his head. ‘None. I was pardoned. I choose this because I want it. It made it easier in the beginning to pretend… but by now everyone knows.’

‘Alas, it does not bother you that I did not choose likewise, yet I am forced to obey.’

‘You chose servitude,’ Draco argued. ‘You can still choose otherwise. You can always choose otherwise, but I ask you not to.’

Loki stilled, considering this. He had not realized that he still had that choice. ‘I can always choose prison?’

‘Always.’ Draco threw him a sad look. ‘Is the thought to sleep with us really that horrible?’

Loki closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he had last lain with someone, and that someone had been Sigyn. Draco was right, once he had been happy to partake in carnal pleasures. But then…

‘I can’t do this,’ he whispered. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t. Anything but this.’

Draco said nothing, and when Loki opened his eyes he saw that he had turned away and his face was twisted in grief. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, but when he opened them they were wet with tears. Loki frowned, touching his shoulder. ‘Why?’

Draco just shook his head. ‘It is me who is sorry. I shouldn’t have talked Harry into this. You don’t have to… I will speak to him.’

He started to get up. Loki grasped his hand. ‘No… wait. Explain this to me. Why are you crying?’

Draco closed his eyes again and smiled bitterly. ‘My selfish desires brought you here, and they are more selfish than you think. I realize now that what I planned to do was foolish and cruel. I don’t know what I thought… in all those stories you always seemed so indifferent; I really thought you would just go along with it. Stupid… I was just lying to myself.’

‘Going along with what?’ Loki asked suspiciously. There was more to it than just sleeping with them, he felt it. Why else would he talk about him specifically?

‘Carrying our child.’

Loki jerked back and nearly hit his head against the wall. Fear ripped through him. ‘I can’t sire any more children.’

Draco looked down. ‘That was not what I was talking about.’

He frowned, his heart still beating rapidly. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Your magic… I was hoping…’ Draco swallowed. ‘Harry needs children, and I can’t give them to him. He will have to marry, marry a woman who can give birth to his heirs. More than that, he wants children, more than anything, and I know that he will love and cherish any child he has. Their mother will be precious to him, and I… I will become just the pet you already called me.’ He twisted his mouth bitterly. ‘But you… you have born children. I thought that with your magic, you might be able to make a child from me and Harry. Do what I cannot.’

‘Bear a child that would not be mine…’ Loki whispered.

‘I know… It is horrible and stupid and I should have never considered it. I convinced him that you would not mind. It is over anyways, he would never force you… He will hate me as soon as he realizes I was wrong.’

‘But you are not.’

Draco whipped around and stared at Loki.

Loki thought of all his dear children. All his beautiful dead and tortured children that suffered because a cursed seer had predicted that one of his children would bring about Ragnarok. He had loved all of them, and he had sworn that he would never bear another child for Odin to destroy, no matter how much it hurt. But this… a child that was not his, that did not carry the curse. A child that he could love and nurture, that he could watch grow up happy and out of Odin’s reach. A child that would never draw Odin’s attention... ‘Will I be precious to him then, if I do this?’ he whispered. ‘Will I be able to raise this child alongside you, or will you take the child from me as soon as it is born and never have it know me?’

‘Of course you can raise it with us, if that is what you want,’ Draco said, shocked. He had not thought he would want that, Loki realized, and why should he? Didn’t all the stories say that he had abandoned all his children as soon as they were born, let them be banished and tortured and killed?

Draco wrapped his arms around him, and Loki suddenly realized that he was crying.

He had thought he would never have another child again, and now, they offered him this… an opportunity to not only bear one child but many, to have what he had always longed for. Part of him knew that they had planned to use him like a broodmare, and that he should be angry, but he could not be. Not if they gave him such a gift in the guise of cruelty. He felt as if something inside him was breaking, shattering. He could not remember why he had done all the things he had done, as if he was looking at himself from the outside and was seeing a stranger. It was worse than falling into the abyss, because then, at least, his rage had given him a purpose. Now, his memories seemed to devour him until he had nothing left to hold onto.

‘I will be your pet, if that is what you wish,’ he said, and the thought suddenly felt liberating. He could obliterate the monster that he was; become merely a vessel for his masters. They would contain him, and use him, and make sure that he caused no harm to anyone but himself. In this moment, he longed for that.

Draco rocked him back and forth and hummed slightly. ‘Are you sure those manacles aren’t messing with you somehow?’ he finally asked silently.

Loki wondered if he had spoken his last words aloud.

‘No, but I’m a legilimens, and you were not protecting your thoughts at all. Actually, you were projecting them quite strongly.’

Loki flinched back, but Draco kept him in his embrace. ‘Shush. I try not to. But the fact remains, what you are thinking reeks of compulsion.’

Loki shook his head and slowly regained control. ‘No. It is a part of me I have always tried to suppress. I have always hated…’ He stopped.

‘You have always hated yourself.’ Draco finished. ‘That is the real reason why you did all this. Because you think you are a monster, so you might as well act like one.’

‘I am a monster,’ Loki hissed. ‘No matter how you tried to absolve me of my crimes. I have killed, and destroyed, and I relished in it!’

‘I know.’ Draco wrapped himself around him until he could hardly move. ‘Believe me, I know.’


	7. A dream, which was not all a dream

Loki woke to the low murmur of voices somewhere above him, which became slowly more distinct as his mind cleared. He caught the words ‘compulsion’ and ‘caution’, spoken with a subtle tension, and frowned. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling above him. It was layered with rectangular, painted tiles, which showed small pictures of angels and mystic creatures drawn in flawless detail. Between them, a blue snake was moving back and forth, circling around the room and moving between its unmoving companions like a streak of water flowing around obstacles. It suddenly dashed forward and curled into a circle above him. ‘ _He is awake_.’

Someone came closer, and suddenly Potter was staring down at him with a blank intensity. Draco joined him, fretfully. The blond knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m not under any compulsion,’ Loki said, ‘except for the one that is part of the enslavement spell, the same one that affects all of you.’

Draco froze, his hand suddenly clutching his shoulder painfully. ‘ _What_?’

‘Certainly you are aware that there is a component of the enslavement spell that encourages submission,’ Loki said, feeling some glee about it, since they obviously had not known. ‘It is nothing artificial, though, it merely encourages tendencies that are already there. I thought you would welcome it, since it makes things here go much more smoothly.’

‘I felt some resentment for my own feelings before the spell,’ Draco said thoughtfully. ‘It would also explain why my father accepted this so easily.’

Loki sat up. He had lain on the cushion Draco had brought him to earlier, and he now felt a subdued anger that had then been overwhelmed by his other feelings. ‘I did not really mean what I said before, just so you know,’ he said. ‘I’m not particularly fond of the idea of becoming a pet; I’m not very submissive in general, actually. Some rare moments being the exception.’ Thoughts of his children had always made him more pliant, something Angrboda, Svaldilfari and Sigyn had all noticed and used. He hadn’t minded it then, not until later. These moments of weakness had doomed his children, and he had tried to erase this part of himself. He had not succeeded. It had been rash, perhaps, to try so hard to be something he was not.

‘Is there a way to remove this compulsion?’ Potter asked.

‘I could do it easily, but I would not recommend that. It does not force anyone to do anything they don’t want, it just makes it easier to give in. Considering that I would normally be very tempted to tear your heart out, an attempt of which would turn out to be immensely painful for me, I welcome it. I imagine there are a number of Death Eaters in your collection who feel the same way.’ Loki smirked.

Potter frowned unhappily. ‘I promised to do my best to give them their lives back.’

Loki shrugged. He did not care about the human’s foolishness. He could see the lines of worry in Potter’s face, the true compassion for people who had wronged him. If Loki had been in his place, he would have relished in their humiliation. There were those who thought that this was Potter’s motive for claiming the Death Eaters. Loki knew better. It was his righteousness that would not let him accept injustice. He stretched on the cushion like a big cat, then spread his legs and drew Draco into his lap. ‘So ask them.’

‘I don’t want to feel that resentment again,’ said Draco. ‘I felt it because I was raised to believe that what I crave is wrong. I was happy when I was finally at peace with myself. I always thought it was because you really claimed me, but if the spell was part of it I don’t mind.’ He put a hand on Potter’s knee and smiled. ‘Please believe me, Master. I don’t want to be at war with myself. I love what I have become, what we have become.’

Potter hesitated for a moment, and put his hand on Draco’s. ‘What about the others?’

Draco kissed his fingers. ‘There were those that choose prison. That wouldn’t have happened if the spell compelled us into mindless servitude. I believe those that chose to serve you will feel like I do. Loki is right, Harry. They are more content and safer this way. Would you truly want them to resent this situation for the rest of their lives?’

Loki saw Potter wavering, and had to admire the power the blond wielded over his master. He was quick with words, and more than willing to use Potter’s feelings for him to his advantage. He would enjoy his company. In times of old, he thought, men like Draco and his father might have worshipped him. He would have been fond of such devotees.

In the end, Potter nodded, even if it was reluctantly. Another tiny bit of corruption taking seed, Loki thought, trailing his hands over Draco’s chest. He could feel the blond’s breath quicken and smirked. Potter, too, was distracted by his actions. Could he take Draco’s place if he tried? Did he want to try? Potter clearly enjoyed his position of power, and while Loki could play a willing slave to achieve what he wanted, he would never enjoy it like Draco did. Perhaps it would be prudent to wait.

‘I was under the impression that you did not want to provide sexual favors,’ Potter said, watching his ministrations with, to Loki’s amusement, a hint of jealousy.

‘I was under the impression that you were not planning to give me a choice,’ Loki mocked, kissing Draco’s neck.

‘That is not true…’ Draco said breathlessly. ‘I told you yesterday…’ He arched towards Loki when his fingers found a particular sensitive spot under his ribcage.

Potter narrowed his eyes. ‘I said what I said because I thought that you were merely obstinate. You told me earlier that you were willing to serve me in any way I wished. However, Draco told me that you were genuinely opposed to this kind of service. I would not force you.’

Loki wondered briefly what Draco had told him. He had panicked earlier, mostly because he had not expected it. ‘It is a kind of degradation I was not prepared for,’ he said contemplatively. ‘You surprised me.’ There was more to it, of course. He had traded himself before. He had usually enjoyed it. However, that had been before he had known what he really was. It had been before he had been trapped, before Vali’s and Narfi’s deaths, before Jotunheimr, before the void. He shivered, and Draco sensed it and took his hand, weaving his fingers between his. Loki looked straight at Potter. ‘I want the children you can give me.’

Potter blinked, then frowned, studying him with a deep interest that made Loki uncomfortable. ‘Can you work that spell without sexual contact?’

Loki started to shake his head, flinched, and pressed his lips together. ‘Yes, but I don’t want that. It is a different kind of magic. The spell I would prefer requires both of you to fuck me.’ He had thought the crudeness would make it easier to say, but it left him trembling.

‘You are afraid,’ Draco said, turning around to him. ‘You want to do this although you are terrified.’

‘I’m not afraid!’ Loki said angrily. Pain laced through him and he fell back into the cushion and screamed.

Potter was next to him in a heartbeat, taking his head into his lap. ‘You should not lie to me,’ he said, his voice full of concern.

Loki chuckled bitterly. ‘A long time ago, dwarfs sewed my mouth shut claiming I am incapable of telling anything but lies.’ He thought how that in a way had been more merciful than forcing him to always tell the truth.

Potter’s hands tightened on his shoulders. ‘Tell me about that,’ he said, rubbing slow circles on Loki’s shoulders.

Loki hesitated for a moment, then he started to tell the story how he had made a wager with the dwarfs of Nidavellir for the treasures of the gods, a wager he had lost without truly losing.

‘The Aesir did nothing to defend you?’ asked Draco, trailing his hand over Loki’s arm.

Loki laughed. ‘I lost the wager! They caught me when I tried to flee and gave me to Brokk. He would have cut off my head if I had not argued him out of it. They thought I got off lightly, and they made jokes about it for years.’ He could not help the bitterness that crept into his voice. They had taken the treasures he had won them all too readily. He had asked Thor once why he had handed him to Brokk, and he had answered in that glib way of his that he had never doubted that Loki would talk himself out of it, and he had, so what was the problem? He had always been proud of having been able to trick the dwarfs, and for a long time he had not thought about everything else that happened, not until Odin showed up to save Thor on Jotunheimr.

He had never truly resented Thor for capturing him and handing him to the dwarf, but then Odin had not thought twice to bend the rules to save his own son. Many things that had happened appeared in a different light once he had realized that not everything in Asgard was measured with the same set of scales.

Draco trailed his fingers over Loki’s lips. ‘How did you eat?’ He sounded both fascinated and horrified, and Loki could feel his fingers probing for scars that were not there.

‘Magic,’ he said, licking Draco’s finger. ‘I also learned to perfect illusions to talk through them. As a matter of fact, I mastered those days after it happened, and the Aesir never realized how long it took me to get rid of the thread.’ The only one who had known had been Frigga, who had felt his magic, and had helped him search for a solution. In retrospect, Odin had probably known, too, but he had never said anything. Nearly two years, that was how long it had taken him to beat Brokk’s magic. He had avoided the Aesir during that time, and had travelled a lot under the pretense of study. They had never questioned it, on the contrary. Thor had once told him that he had been happy that he had been gone, because Sif had still been angry because of her hair, and it would have been difficult if he had stayed. Loki snorted. He had never gotten along with Thor’s friends. The idea that Sif’s hair was the root of their conflict was typically Thor. Of course Thor had been right in that they had hated him even more because of it, and Thor’s childish attempt to force them to get along would have failed even more spectacularly than usual if he had been around directly after the incident. Aside from that, however, he had learned a lot during his travels, not only about dwarf magic, but many other secrets of the realms. In a way, the dwarf had done him a favor. He had been miserable in the first weeks after it happened, but without it he would have never started to pursue his own interests outside of what benefitted the Allfather. Before that incident, he had always been Thor’s sidekick, just one more in his merry band of friends, but after he came back from his self-imposed exile he had stopped spending all his time with him and his friends. He had started to research magics Frigga could not teach him.

‘You were so daring, so strong…’ said Potter. ‘What has made you afraid of touch?’

Loki stiffened. ‘I’m not afraid of touch,’ he croaked. ‘I’m afraid of being helpless. Of being… at the mercy of others.’

Potter’s arms tightened around him while Draco cuddled closer to him. ‘Then it was very brave of you to make this deal with me.’

‘I chose you because I trusted you not to exploit it,’ Loki said stiffly.

‘I understand,’ said Potter, kissing the top of his head. ‘You can trust me.’ He pulled him up. ‘Come.’

They led him into an opulent bedroom, which was dominated by a huge four poster. On both sides of the room were doors that likely led to walk-in closets. Potter pulled him down onto the bed and Draco followed. Loki lay down stiffly, but Potter merely spelled his clothing into pajamas, and lay down next to him. Draco curled against him and smiled. ‘You will be safe with us,’ he said. ‘Sleep.’

.

_Loki struggled against the chains. He was kneeling on a stone floor, but that was all he knew. A hood wrapped tightly around his head, silencing him and blinding and deafening him at the same time. His arms were tied to his back, and the chains wrapping around his legs tightened with his every move and kept his knees spread apart. Further chains curled around his neck and choked him when he tried to rise. He did not know how long he had been in this place. His sons had tried to defend him after Baldur’s death, but no-one had believed them when they told them that he was innocent. They had tried to protect him… The last thing he remembered was that Sigyn had fled._

_Suddenly, something touched him, and he flinched back. A knife cut away his armor, and he heard the muffled sounds of laughter and shouts he could not understand or identify. He struggled, but the chains only cut deeper into his skin and he could not breathe. A liquid was dumped over him, and he felt it run over his naked skin and pool under him. It smelt sweet and metallic, somehow familiar. The laughter increased, and then retreated. He sagged against his chains, exhausted and humiliated._

_After some time, there was a scratching sound and something blew hot air against his neck. He felt fur pushing against him, and something licked at his skin, closer and closer, then nipped and bit down. He screamed._

‘Shush, it’s a dream.’ Arms wrapped around him and for a few, delirious moments he struggled madly until they released him. ‘You were dreaming,’ the voice said, and he finally recognized Draco’s voice. ‘It was a just a nightmare.’

‘No,’ he whispered, curling into a ball. ‘No, it wasn’t.’

He remembered it as if it were yesterday. The guards had dumped goat blood on him, hoping that Vali, trapped in his wolf form and starved, would devour him. He almost had, if not for Narfi, who had escaped his own prison and had tried to fight the wolf. When they had removed his hood, he had looked at two children lying dead in front of him, one killed by his brother, one who had killed himself in grief. A week later, Sigyn had returned with proof that it had been Amora who had cursed Hodur’s arrow.

Looking back, that was probably the day the last part of him that had truly loved Odin had died. He knew that his father had let it happen, not because he was convinced that Loki had killed Baldur, but because he was afraid of his children. Back then, he had not known why. Odin had never told him about the prophecy, he had found out when he had become acting king of Asgard. The guards who had let Vali roam free had been punished for negligence. When he had demanded their execution, he had been reminded that his boys had defied Odin’s orders and had been imprisoned for treason. Sigyn had left him shortly after; she had been unable to understand why he would accept such a verdict.

He had felt that he could not go against his father, that there must be something wrong with him, because all the other Aesir had told him that the Allfather’s decision was just and should not be questioned. Deep down, however, he had known that Odin was wrong, and it had influenced his actions ever since.

‘Tell us,’ Potter whispered in his ear.

Loki closed his eyes. It occurred to him that he had never told anyone his side of the story, that no one had ever asked. Thor had never tried to defend his nephews, although he had been saddened by their loss. He had treated their deaths like _accidents_ , and Loki had never expected him to listen.

Two pairs of eyes were watching him, both concerned in their own way. They complemented each other, he thought. Potter’s calm strength drew on Draco’s compassion, and Draco’s openness relied on Potter’s steady support. They made each other what they were. He could see what Draco could have been, if he had denied that part of himself. Less than what he was. It made him wonder if he himself had also become less through his loneliness, which had turned into a conviction that he needed no-one.

He had been different once, more than this bitter, vengeful person he had become. The irony was that he had never wanted power when he was younger; not the power to rule openly. One thing he had never been envious of was Thor’s right to the throne. He had been confident that he would influence the fate of the realm as an advisor, behind the scenes. Frigga had encouraged that belief. That had been the main reason why it had frustrated him that Thor never listened to him. It should not have been necessary to resort to trickery to get Thor to follow his advice. Thor should have heeded his advice because Loki was the one who would have been his right hand when he became king. Instead, Thor had been banished and Loki had become king, and he had tried so hard to be what he had always thought Thor should be. He had deluded himself into thinking that he could be a better king than Thor and Odin combined, that he could erase his monstrous origin by being a better Aesir than the both of them. All of his actions afterwards seemed like an attempt to prove that this had not been a spectacular mistake, as if he was unable to stop once he had begun. He had tried to erase his mistakes with even more mistakes, until it was blatantly obvious that he would always fail. It had never been his destiny to become king of Asgard, and he should have known that from the very beginning. He was the god of chaos, after all, and chaos could not rule a kingdom without courting disaster.

He looked at the two men who waited patiently for his answer and wondered if he could become more of himself in this place, or if it would extinguish the last of what he could have been and remake him in something totally other. The thought scared him, but the only choice he had was to move forward. He had spent the last years running from his past and it had led him nowhere. Maybe it was time to face it, and see what change it would bring.

‘Odin and Frigga had another son,’ he began. ‘His name was Baldur, and he was murdered with a cursed arrow.’


	8. Old time shall sound the boding horn

_Azkaban, a week after Voldemort’s death_

Malfoy looked different when Harry visited him in his cell. He had lost weight, his hair was greasy and unkempt, and the prisoner tunic did nothing to hide the dirt and the bruises. Nonetheless he smiled when he saw him. ‘I was hoping you would come,’ he said.

Harry looked at him, his gaunt appearance, and the chains that seemed much too heavy for his thin wrists and ankles.

‘I will get you out of here somehow,’ he said. ‘You don’t deserve this.’

Malfoy’s smile turned wry. ‘There are many who disagree.’ He looked at the door. The warden had left.

Based on his words and the smirk when he said them Harry assumed he expected him to do something else than what he was actually doing, something he was happy to not see. It filled him with disgust, but he was also grateful for it, because it gave them privacy. He stuck his cloak in front of the tiny window, lit the cell with a wandless Lumos, and cast Muffliato for good measure.

‘They are wrong.’ Harry hesitated. ‘I missed you.’

‘Did you?’ Malfoy studied him. ‘You know, that place you gave me the address of? It was not easy to go there unnoticed. I was hoping you would turn up, but you never did. I figured you changed your mind. Still, I thank you. It helped me to keep my sanity in the last few months.’

Harry flinched. ‘I wanted to… but I couldn’t. I didn’t have a moment alone after we escaped from the manor. I found it by accident, and I learned a lot of things there. Things that helped me realize what happened between us… and how much I wanted it.’

Malfoy looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I thought you changed your mind, but I had hoped to convince you otherwise. I’m glad I don’t have to.’ He hesitated. ‘We don’t have much time,’ he said then. ‘I have to be blunt. I don’t know what you are thinking you can do to get me out of here, but I promise you, you are wrong. My family has dealt in politics as long as I can remember, and there are still enough people willing to take Malfoy gold to let me know what’s going on. Your new government is not going to let us go. There won’t be fair trials. Maybe if one of your people had become interim minister, but as it is, the ministry is controlled by people who want to erase their own part in history, and they are going to do it by placing the blame on those who obviously deserve it. Some of them are afraid, some of them want revenge, but whatever their motive is, the outcome will be the same.’

Harry shook his head. ‘No. There are laws, I’m sure…’

Malfoy laughed. ‘Always so naïve, Potter. I don’t expect you to believe me now, but when the first people have died, you will realize I’m right. If you want to save us, you will have to do it in a different way.’

‘Do you expect me to break you out? You, and your parents too, I assume?’ Harry felt himself becoming angry. Malfoy’s presumptuousness astonished him. ‘You audacious…’

‘No.’ Malfoy seemed amused by his outrage. ‘Trust me, what I hope you will do is entirely within the law.’

Harry faltered, and Malfoy smirked.

‘You should have realized that this is what we’re truly good at… using the law to our advantage. It was the Dark Lord who insisted on needless violence and mayhem. My father certainly didn’t like this way to handle things, and I, as you know, hated it. Why would I start now?’

Harry took a deep breath. ‘If we were anywhere else right now…’

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed and his smile turned sultry. ‘You can do whatever you want with me, even here. The warden certainly expects it. However, this is not the time. I left a chest for you in our manor, in the care of two of my house elves. They will give it to you if you ask for it, and they will help you. I wrote down what I hope you will do – we can’t discuss it here – and all I ask is that you consider it. It won’t hurt you or anyone else. It will only put you in a position to help when it becomes necessary.’

He had planned ahead it seemed. Harry was not sure what he felt more, anger or admiration. ‘Seems you already planned my future for me.’

Malfoy pushed himself to his knees and grabbed his hands. ‘I hoped you would be willing to help us, because I know you. You are just, and you are kind. This is your choice, though. You don’t have to do any of this if you don’t want to.’

‘How can you say that?’ Harry said bitterly. ‘If you are right and you would be hurt because I did nothing I would never forgive myself. You always knew I would have no choice.’

Malfoy’s smile disappeared. ‘Perhaps. Perhaps this is unfair to you, but I’m desperate. I know you didn’t ask to be what you are, but life has placed you in that role. Yes, I’m using it. I’m using you to save myself, and to save my parents. I apologize. But I won’t take it back. ‘

‘If I do this, you will owe me.’

Malfoy snorted. ‘You already own me, Potter. There is no debt that could change what is already the truth. I never wanted anything so much as I want to be yours. Maybe that’s pathetic, but it is the truth. Please believe that.’

Harry gasped and wrapped his fingers in Malfoy’s hair. ‘Don’t say things like that if you don’t want me to act on them.’ Malfoy’s words and actions had sent a wave of heat to his groin, no matter how much he resented him right now.

‘But I want you to,’ Malfoy said breathlessly.

Harry pushed him down and the chains clanked on the stone floor. ‘You want me to fuck you? Here? Filthy as you are? Leave you soiled for the wardens to see, is that it?’

Malfoy clawed at the floor. ‘Yes, please.’

Harry pushed his tunic up. He was wearing nothing underneath. He was feeling hot, and all he could think about was how much he had missed this. He took off his robe and cast a wandless spell for lubrication before he pushed a finger in Malfoy’s ass. Malfoy whimpered and pushed back against him. ‘I learned some new tricks while I was gone,’ Harry said hoarsely. ‘What will the wardens think when they see you like this, panting and wet like a whore? Will they want their own piece of it? You would like that, wouldn’t you, slut? Have their thick cocks fill you one after another? Yes?’

Malfoy almost sobbed and Harry wondered for a moment if he actually liked the idea. ‘Please,’ he begged. ‘Please, fuck me. Please, Master, fuck me.’

It struck Harry like a bolt of lightning having him call him that, and he growled, took out his weeping cock, and pushed into him. ‘That’s right,’ he hissed. ‘You are mine. They can’t have you, you are _mine_. Say it.’

‘I’m yours!’ Malfoy pressed a hand on his mouth to stifle his screams and came in the same moment Harry did. Harry removed himself, panting, and cast a cleaning charm on both of them.

‘I should leave you like that, but I won’t, because you want it too much. You will have to earn it.’

‘Yes, Master.’

Malfoy’s pupils were blown. Harry took him in his arms and stroked his hair. In the past, he had often left him like that without knowing what it meant, and he regretted that now. He had been callous, but to his excuse, he had been ignorant. ‘I will help you because I want to,’ he whispered. ‘I take care of my own. Now, you have to snap out of it, Draco. The warden will be back soon. I’m sorry. I wish we had more time.’

Malfoy smiled, and his eyes slowly cleared. ‘You called me Draco.’

‘That’s your name, isn’t it?’

‘Quite right. Harry.’

It surprised Harry how much it thrilled him to hear Malfoy – Draco – say his name. Draco leant back against him. ‘Soon, we will have all the time in the world.’

‘You are very confident your plans will work.’

Draco smiled. ‘I am.’

.

When he stepped out of the cell, the seedy warden grinned it him, and Harry wanted to hit him. They walked back to the entrance, and the man never stopped grinning. Harry looked at the wooden doors left and right, and felt rage grow in him. The bars of the old cells had been walled shut after the ministry had found out how Sirius had escaped, and had been replaced by wooden doors with tiny barred windows, and Draco’s chains at least had been too short to reach it. That obviously wasn’t true for all of the prisoners, because some of them watched them through the bars and cursed them when they walked past.

‘Just ignore that scum,’ the warden said, obviously thinking his barely hidden disgust was for them. ‘They’ll all get what’s coming to them.’

Harry slowly counted to ten in his head and reminded himself that he had faced far worse things than ministry lackeys. ‘Listen,’ he said conversationally, ‘that prisoner I visited, Draco Malfoy? He is mine. If something happens to him, if someone touches him, or just looks at him in a way that is not one hundred and twenty percent within regulations, and I find out… and I _will_ find out… whoever is responsible will discover why my face was plastered all over Diagon Alley in the last year. Are we clear?’

The warden stared at him. Then his grin turned into something twisted, a mixture of servile fear and admiration. ‘Sure, Sir. He is yours, alright. Wouldn’t want to be the one to spoil your fun.’

‘No, you wouldn’t want to be,’ Harry said icily, and finally, the grin vanished. The man ducked his head and turned away to hurry quietly along in front of him.

That, Harry thought, had felt surprisingly good. Maybe he should try it more often.

.

The most difficult part of it turned out to be apologizing to the goblins. Draco had insisted that it was necessary, that it was essential to have the support of the goblin nation. They were angry at Harry for breaking into the bank, and it didn’t matter one bit why he did it. In the end, it cost him the complete main Black vault and the Ring of Resurrection to earn their forgiveness. Not too bad a deal, he figured, since he kept all of the other Black properties, and he had never cared much for money or vaults. In addition, the ring had kept coming back to him after he had thrown it away, just like the wand. He continued finding it in the most unlikely places, one memorable morning it had been in his breakfast cereal and he had almost choked on it in shock. The goblins had assured him that they knew a way to contain it, and if they could, more power to them. He was happy to be rid of it.

The goblins, on the other hand, were impressed that he was willing to give them such a precious treasure, and it had earned him their forgiveness and respect. They had been willing to help him after that – and Draco had been right, he had needed their help.

In fairytales, the hero who slays the dragon marries the princess, and the shepherd who solves seven riddles earns the kingdom. As it turned out, there is some truth in fairytales when you live in a magical world.

In the muggle world, peerage was determined by heritage. In the wizarding world, things were different. According to the ancient laws Draco had unearthed, titles were determined by power rather than inheritance. Harry had thought Voldemort had called himself Lord out of fancy, but it turned out he had truly been a Lord by wizarding law. He had had sworn followers, and he was considered powerful by most of the wizarding population. The same was of course true for Dumbledore, but he had never openly claimed his title, although he had used its influence in the background to ensure his political power. Harry didn’t have sworn followers, as such, but he had been named a champion of the public, and he had defeated a Lord who had been a public adversary, which made him… a Duke, apparently. The highest rank the wizarding world had at the moment. It also allowed him to claim anything and everything Voldemort had ever possessed. Considering that Voldemort had been de facto ruler of wizarding Britain when Harry had defeated him that made the ministry quite unhappy.

They were willing to cut a deal with him, once he mentioned all the things he could, in theory, do. Such as call for new elections. Maybe he had not asked for enough, but Harry was no politician, and he did not really want anything to do with politics. In addition, the public adored the new minister, and likely would have voted for her again. Thus, he had simply done what Draco had suggested, and had ensured that he had an influence on the outcome of the trials, and some sort of immunity. All they had to do was to accept old laws that had not been used in a long time. They did not like it, but really, Harry could not care less. If Draco was right and the ministry was really hell bent on killing Death Eaters no matter their crime, they deserved all the troubles they got. He had not saved their world from Voldemort for this bullshit, and he was too tired to clean up their mess, again. All he wanted to do was live quietly, peacefully, and keep the people he cared about save. As long as he could have that, the rest of the world could go to hell. If he was honest, he wasn’t willing to take any chances, but deep down he still believed Draco was wrong. There was a new government. There was a new Wizengamot. Surely, the ministry had learned something in the war? Surely, there would be justice? He would probably never need his new powers.

Unfortunately, his life had never been that easy.


	9. A hall far from the sun

The Carrows were the first to go.

Harry attended their trial as a member of the Wizengamot (which was, apparently, part of the whole ‘Duke’ deal). They were both sullen, silent, and unrepentant. The evidence presented against them was overwhelming. At the third day of the trial he felt sickened by the seemingly unending witness accounts of people they had tortured and maimed in the name of preserving discipline at Hogwarts. That two students had died during their punishments seemed almost inconsequential. There were more than twenty that had sustained life-long damage, three that would probably never leave St. Mungo’s. One Wizengamot member begged to be excused when the first pictures were shown. Her niece had been among the injured. The vote on their sentence was unequivocal. They were pushed through the veil on the very same day.

In the night that followed, Harry had a nightmare where Sirius was chased by the Carrows and cried out to him for help, only to be swallowed by darkness. He awoke in cold sweat, and could not fall asleep again for the rest of the night. He had not dreamed of Sirius for more than a year. Sirius would have been the first to push them through, he thought, but that didn’t make him feel better. There was a lingering feeling of wrongness that never went away.

The Lestranges were next. They regretted nothing, and boasted of their crimes. Rodolphus in particular seemed to almost beg for a death sentence. Harry wondered if he had actually loved Bellatrix, when she so clearly had not loved him. There was more evidence, witnesses, pictures, pensieve memories. People they had tortured, people they had killed. Harry only thought of Neville. Again, he voted for death along with everyone else. He knew they deserved nothing better.

The rest of the surviving Death Eaters who had attacked Hogwarts followed. Fenrir Greyback. Walden Macnair. Budrick Yaxley. Thorfinn Rowle. Antonin Dolohov. Augustus Rookwood. Winston Avery. Hephaestus Mulciber. After a while, all the pictures seemed to be the same, all the witness accounts seemed to blur. Torture. Unforgivables. Murder. They had all done it, and they were all guilty. Most of them did not even pretend to regret it. He felt sick of it after a while. And then there was Draco. And his trial was exactly the same.

There was Madame Rosmerta, who had been cursed with Imperius. There was Katie Bell, who had almost died. There were Slughorn’s memories of Ron almost dying of poison. There were the memories how he had tortured under Voldemorts command, how he had led Death Eaters into Hogwarts. There was the picture of Dumbledore’s body, and memories of Snape and Draco running to escape. There were the students testifying that Draco had worked with the Carrows.

‘This is not all the evidence,’ Harry said, and they looked at him as if he were mad.

‘What further evidence do we need, your Grace?’ Marchbanks asked.

‘He was acting under duress,’ he said. ‘Voldemort threatened his parents. He did not do any of this out of his own free will. He never wanted to do this.’

They still shuddered when he said the name. ‘You-know-who threatened everyone,’ a plump, rabbit-faced little witch said, and everyone nodded solemnly. Marchbanks looked down at him through her glasses. ‘The investigation of the DMLE has been very thorough,’ she said. ‘If there was any further substantial evidence, I’m sure it would have been included.’

‘There is further evidence!’ he almost screamed. ‘Call me to the witness stand!’

‘If you want to withdraw from this decision for personal reasons, we understand,’ Marchbanks said, as if he had not said anything of relevance. ‘We understand that you owe the accused’s mother a life debt.’

Harry grit his teeth. He had tried to get Narcissa Malfoy released early, but they had insisted that she stay in prison until her trial was scheduled, which was not until several weeks from now. Now they used his own arguments against him.

Draco smiled at him, a sad little smile, and shook his head. Harry felt breathless with rage, but he sat down and abstained. The vote was the same as all the others. Death. He knew then that Draco had always been right.

Harry claimed him, against the outrage of the Wizengamot and the spectators, and the judgmental gazes that pretended that enslaving another wizard was somehow worse than killing him.

It felt like the worst day of his life. Not because of all this, but because of the question that haunted him after it was done: If it hadn’t been Draco, how would he have voted? And if he would have voted for death, which he probably would have, how could he be sure about all the others he had condemned? How many of them had truly deserved their fate? How many of them had not?


	10. From below the dragon comes forth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember, this is a FANTASY and should not be taken as a guide to use for a BDSM lifestyle. It’s also not at all realistic—it’s a fanfic with people who can do magic...

Draco clung to him when they appeared in Grimmauld Place.

‘You were right,’ Harry started to say, and Draco moaned.

‘I can’t do this right now,’ he whispered. ‘Please, I need…’ He slid to the floor and grasped Harry’s legs with the force of someone drowning, looking through him at something invisible. ‘Please…’

Harry knew what he meant without saying it. He felt it himself, the rage that had threatened to overwhelm him in the court room, an abyss that stared back at him. They had not talked about this, but this was not the time. They both needed something. He slapped Draco, and the thin blond fell and caught himself with a dull thud on the wooden floor. This time, he looked at Harry, and his eyes were grateful.

‘I’m sorry, Master,’ he said.

Harry licked his lips. Draco had rarely called him that so early in the game, but maybe he had changed. ‘Learned some manners, have you?’ he spat.

Draco got to his hands and knees and crawled to him, and God, how that turned him on. ‘I can be a good boy,’ he said. ‘For you, Master, I promise. But I have been bad before, very bad. I need to be punished.’

‘Is that what you need?’ Harry asked, and despite the mocking tone, he studied Draco with seriousness.

Draco hesitated, sensing the honesty in the question. He looked up at Harry, and the desperation in his eyes made Harry’s heart ache. ‘Yes, please.’

Harry nodded. ‘Take off your clothes.’

Draco scrambled to obey, and Harry felt aggrieved at how thin he was. Skin and bones, although there were no bruises this time, except for the places where the chains had dug in his arms and legs. The wardens had obviously listened to him. Good for them, Harry thought grimly. He would have found a way to make good on his promise if Draco had been hurt. He studied the blond, thinking. How was he supposed to punish him? He was afraid to hit him, there were no fat or muscles to buffer the blows, and spells awoke bad memories for both of them.

In the end, he summoned rope and directed it to wrap around Draco. He was secretly very proud of how good he had become with this particular spell. It was an easy, inconspicuous spell to practice. The rope wrapped around Draco’s arms and pulled them back behind his back, then tugged his hands up until they were folded back against his shoulders. Draco gasped and tears welled up in his eyes.

Harry chuckled. ‘Does that hurt? Don’t worry, this is just the beginning.’

‘Please, Master…’ Draco begged.

Harry conjured two red rubber balls and put one in Draco’s left hand. ‘I don’t want to hear your voice.’

He gripped Draco’ jaw and forced his mouth open, then pushed the second ball between his teeth. The rope immediately wrapped around his head and tied itself in two knots left and right of the ball that dug into the corners of Draco’s mouth. He choked, and Harry held him for a moment until he breathed easily through his nose. ‘Okay?’ he asked.

Draco blinked once, then nodded. Harry walked around him and studied him while the rope continued to move.

‘Comfortable, hmm?’ Harry smirked when Draco immediately tried to shake his head but couldn’t, because the rope had formed a stiff collar that made it impossible. ‘We can’t have that.’

Part of the rope braided itself until it was thick and stiff enough to form a rod that kept Draco’s knees spread apart, the rest wrapped itself around his legs and ankles, then tugged the ankles towards his shoulders and tied itself closely to the rest that had wrapped around his elbows. Harry let it tighten until Draco started screaming, then relaxed it a little. He noticed that Draco still clutched the first ball tightly in his hand. A few charms told him everything was alright.

He let the rope attach itself to the ceiling, and let it shorten until it tugged Draco’s arms and ankles up a little, but let him still lie on the floor, then knelt down next to him. Harry trailed his hand over the naked skin and kissed Draco’s temple. ‘I’m going to make myself some tea.’

Draco stared at him when he got up and Harry smiled. He walked out of Draco’s line of sight, then cast a silencing charm on himself and conjured a chair. Draco was lying in the middle of the entrance hall where Walburga Black’s portrait had once hung, and Harry wondered amusedly what she would say if she could see this. He let the door slam with a flick of his wrist, and the blond flinched.

The rope slowly shortened, pulling Draco more and more up. When he started to struggle, it shortened even faster, and soon he was hanging freely pulled up by his elbows and ankles. The rope at his knees attached itself to the walls and pulled them further apart, giving him a nice view of Draco’s ass. He grinned and cast a lubrication charm on some of the rope, then let it twist and push into the eager little hole. Harry opened his trousers and grabbed himself when Draco gasped and sobbed. He felt hot watching him, and felt his breath going faster. He bit his lip to keep his concentration on the spell. The rope continued to twist, becoming thicker and thicker in the process, and Draco finally started to really struggle and scream, no doubt trying to get him to ‘come back’.

Harry stroked himself, watching the spectacle. Draco was still clutching the ball, and his cock was pointing straight towards the floor. His pre-come dripped down and pooled in a small puddle beneath him. Harry had the rope wrap around Draco’s balls and squeeze. Stuffed from both ends and unable to come. Beautiful. He kept his eyes on Draco’s breathing, but the blond had no problems. He was screaming, guttural, animalistic sounds, and his chest was heaving. That was what he needed, Harry knew that. And _this_ was what _he_ needed. He froze the spell, and watched what he had wrought.

How beautiful he looked. Harry wanted to leave him like this. He closed his eyes and imagined coming back to this in the morning, perhaps after some visitors from the ministry had come in to check on him and his new slave. He imagined Draco’s shivers and humiliation when they tugged at the ropes and joked about him getting what he deserved. Maybe he could let Kreacher check on him occasionally, too. Harry squeezed his cock and came with a shudder, then fell back into his chair, panting.

When his breathing calmed down he looked back to his slave, who still struggled in his bonds. His face was red, and the flush travelled down his shoulders all the way to his hips. Harry smiled and loosened the part of the rope that kept Draco from coming. Draco gasped, and froze for a moment. His muscles clenched around the rope, and he moved up against it to get more of it inside him. Harry felt himself harden again at the sight. He waved his hand to make the rope move, and Draco gasped and shuddered. It did not take long until he spilled come over the floor.

Harry stood up and cancelled the silencing charm. ‘Tsk, tsk. I’ve only been gone a few minutes, and look what a mess you made.’

He pushed Draco to the side and let the rope lengthen until he dropped to the floor, then he vanished the collar and the gag. ‘Clean it up.’

Draco looked at him with tearful eyes, and somehow managed to twist and roll until his head was next to the spill and started to lick it up. Harry stroked his cock and licked is lips. Draco looked delicious. Red and sweaty with a tear-stained face, nothing at all like the poised pureblood he liked to present to the world.

‘Good dog,’ he said when the floor was clean. He vanished the rest of the rope, and Draco screamed and sobbed again when his arms and legs suddenly relaxed. ‘Come here,’ he growled.

Draco crawled awkwardly towards him. His joints had obviously stiffened and hurt now when he tried to move normally.

Harry pushed his trousers down and kicked them away. ‘Suck me off.’

Draco obeyed, leaning awkwardly against him. Harry grabbed his hair to steady him and fucked his mouth until he gagged. It took some time until he came again, and Draco bowed down without prompting to lick up what he had spilled.

‘You are a good pet,’ Harry said. ‘Just what I need. I will keep you like this, I think. I have a dog basket I can put at the foot of my bed for you, and a bowl too. Kreacher will be happy to bring you some leftovers. We only need a proper collar.’

He looked around, then picked up a heavy black dog collar he had conjured earlier from a table at the side. ‘What do you say?’

‘Yes, Master,’ Draco said. He sat back on his heels. He would have agreed to anything in this moment, Harry realized, and the thought was exhilarating. Harry closed the collar around his neck and took a deep breath when it sealed itself. He had dreamed of doing this for so long…

‘Thank you, Master,’ Draco said, and leant his head against Harry’s tigh.

He stroked Draco’s hair, then took his hand and pried his fingers from the rubber ball. ‘You can let this go now.’

Draco took a deep breath and released the ball. He seemed to deflate a little when it hit the floor.

‘Do you want a bath now?’ Harry asked gently.

‘May I?’ Draco asked tiredly.

‘Of course.’ Harry helped him up, then cast a featherlight spell on him and carried him when he stumbled.

When he reached the bathroom, the bathtub was already full, and Harry lowered Draco slowly into the warm water. ‘Thank you, Kreacher,’ he mumbled, glad to have a house elf capable of independent thought.

Draco sighed, and let himself be washed. Harry also cast some healing charms to heal the places where the ropes had chafed his skin and Draco opened his eyes a little. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I want you to be comfortable this evening,’ Harry said calmly. ‘Comfortable and not hurting.’

‘As you wish,’ Draco mumbled, but Harry could tell he was a little bit disappointed.

He decided to take off his clothes and join Draco in the tub. The water was soothing, and let him finally relax. He had not realized how much the stress of the day still lingered until this moment.

He slid behind Draco and the blond leant back against him and sighed contentedly.

‘Are you alright?’ he asked.

‘I feel wonderful, Master,’ Draco mumbled.

‘Draco, I mean it, are you…’

Draco opened his eyes and looked at him, a bit reproachful. ‘I really feel wonderful, Harry. Don’t start worrying now and ruin this.’

‘I won’t,’ Harry said. ‘I’m not that insecure anymore. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. We haven’t discussed boundaries yet.’

‘You will find that I have very few,’ Draco said, smiling contentedly.

‘I won’t really let you sleep in a dog basket, of course.’

‘No? How disappointing.’ It surprised Harry that he could not tell if this was a joke.

‘Would you want that?’

Draco was silent for a moment. ‘I wouldn’t resent it,’ he said then.

‘Really?’ Harry had known that Draco got off on humiliation and pain, but he had never suspected that transferred to situations that were not sexual.

Draco trailed a hand along his arm. ‘I want to be yours. I want to be owned. I want to be cared for. I think I would like to be a pet. Not the part with the leftovers, perhaps,’ he added as an afterthought, and grinned.

‘I wouldn’t,’ Harry said earnestly. ‘Not even as a punishment.’

‘Good to know.’

‘I don’t know if I’m ready for this,’ Harry said honestly. ‘I hadn’t expected it of you.’

Draco turned around to him and looked at him. ‘I never said no to you.’

‘Yes, but that was sex.’

‘I see.’

Draco took a sponge and started to rub soap over Harry’s arms and chest. ‘Let’s take this slowly then. Maybe I will realize after a while that it is not all I want, who knows. But I can tell you that I have dreamed about this for a long time, and you are… everything I hoped for.’

Harry wrapped his arms around him. ‘If I hadn’t come two times already…’

‘Use me as you wish,’ Draco said, smiling.

Harry noticed that he wasn’t aroused. ‘Is this too vanilla for you?’

Draco shrugged, then nodded. ‘Yes, I guess? I usually need at least a bit of pain, or, you know, a different kind of mood.’

‘I don’t always feel that way.’

‘That’s fine. As I said. I don’t mind. I don’t have to get off every time.’

‘You still enjoy it?’ Harry asked a bit doubtfully.

‘I do.’

Harry contemplated that. You already own me, Draco had said to him in Azkaban. An idea occurred to him, and as strange as it was, he had to ask him. ‘Is this some kind of wish fulfillment for you? I mean, when you told me to claim you as a slave I thought there was no other choice. Was there? Answer me honestly.’

Draco studied him for a moment, and then flinched suddenly. ‘Yes, there were other ways,’ he said hastily. ‘You could have asked them to free me, for example. It never occurred to you? No, scratch that.’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘I realized I was done for when I started thinking this is sweet.’ He kissed Harry’s nose. ‘You could have asked them anything, Harry. They would have given it to you because you are the Duke of Britain. They would have hated you, of course,’ he added after a moment of contemplation. ‘Way more than they do now, that is. They would have probably declared you the next Dark Lord before the year was over.’ He chuckled at that.

Harry was too stunned to be really angry.

Draco sobered. ‘One thing I have to ask of you, Harry.’

‘Yes?’ At this point, he was surprised Draco asked him for anything.

‘The slavery spell that was cast on me is hurting me every time I disobey one of your orders. I would not mind, except right now you could tell me to jump out of a window when you are angry and I would scream in agony if I don’t do it.’

Harry froze. ‘What? Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?’ He thought of the many things he could have said to Draco during a session that would have ended up hurting him way more than he had wanted.

‘Shush.’ Draco pressed a finger against his lips. ‘You can punish me later. Now, however, I need you to tell me that I can treat everything you don’t explicitly order me to do as a suggestion.’

‘Draco,’ Harry said severely, ‘you can treat _everything_ I tell you as a suggestion. That is an order, and the last one I give you as far as this spell is concerned. I never wanted a spell like this to interfere in what we have. The thought is _offensive_ to me. Do you understand that?’

‘Yes,’ Draco said silently, his eyes lowered. ‘I’m sorry, Master. I should have told you immediately.’

‘You should have,’ Harry said empathically, ‘but mistakes happen. I don’t want to deal with this today; we will come back to it another time. In the future, don’t conceal such information from me.’

‘I promise I won’t,’ Draco replied, still looking down.

‘Good.’ Harry put a finger under his chin and raised his head. ‘Dinner?’

Draco looked at him, nodded, and smiled. ‘Sounds good.’

They were both tired and very relaxed, and it took some time until they had dried themselves and dressed. Harry had ordered Kreacher to bring pajamas and flannel robes, and prepare some dinner.

When they came down to the dining room, a pot of stew and fresh bread and butter were waiting for them. Harry sighed contentedly when he sat in his chair. He noticed Draco hesitated for a moment before he sat in the chair across from him. The table was of course already set for two. The stew was heavenly, and they both dug in with relish.

‘I have missed this,’ Draco said. ‘Merlin and Morgana, the food in Azkaban is abysmal. I thought I would get used to it after a while, but they always find some new abomination to feed you.’

‘Take it slowly, ‘ Harry said. ‘I don’t want you to get sick.’

‘Yes, Master, ‘ Draco quipped, but did slow down a little.

‘We have to talk about this,’ Harry said. ‘About us, about what you need, but also about everything else.’

Draco nodded. ‘Tomorrow is Sunday, isn’t it? That means no session of the Wizengamot.’

‘The next one is on Wednesday,’ Harry said. ‘We have some time.’ Too little, he felt, to decide what to do. He had never thought past rescuing Draco.

‘That’s good,’ Draco said. He put down his spoon and stared at his plate. ‘Have you thought about what you are going to do about the others?’

‘I still hope I can get your mother out without claiming her.” Harry stirred the stew on his plate. ‘She never did anything… and I don’t think there are any witnesses to say otherwise. Did she?’ He had to admit that he knew very little about Narcissa Malfoy and her involvement in the war. He knew that she had been at Malfoy Manor while Voldemort was there, and he knew she had lied to Voldemort for him. ‘Does she even have the mark?’

Draco shook his head. He took a piece of bread and started ripping it apart. ‘I doubt it will matter. Or maybe… since you claimed me… I think I’m still the Malfoy heir, unless they changed that… all our properties should be held in trust now…’

Harry frowned. ‘What does that have to do with your mother’s trial?’

Draco laughed shrilly. ‘Don’t you get it? If there is no heir to an estate, the government claims it. If my father and I had been dead, she would have inherited everything. Now however, it doesn’t matter anymore. A slave’s children can still inherit. The estate will be sealed until my children are of age or until I die childless. At least that’s what the old laws say.’

Harry felt sick to the stomach hearing this. Draco really thought the Wizengamot would have sentenced his mother to death just to get the Malfoy estate? He knew they were vindictive, but he really thought they had enough integrity left to not let their verdict be determined by greed.

‘They accepted the old laws without alteration, I made sure of that,’ he said. He hadn’t liked it, but Draco had insisted it was important. Those old laws were barbaric as far as Harry was concerned. Slaves had no rights at all. They were property similar to house elves. Even magical pets had more rights, because the DMLE could take them from their owner if they were abused. That wasn’t true for slaves and house elves. While the owner was responsible for everything they did, he could also do whatever he wanted with them, even kill them. The spell cast on them ensured their obedience, and while the old texts had been vague on how it did that, Harry now knew that it meant that they were in pain every time they disobeyed an order. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen to their property and their children. They were no longer citizens, so it made sense that they would lose the right to own property. Harry thought of the house elves and was suddenly horrified by the thought that the spell might carry over to the slave’s children, making them slaves, too. But no, the spell had been designed to punish criminals. It could even be removed if the slave was pardoned by the Wizengamot.

‘That’s good,’ Draco said. ‘She has a chance then.’ The bread in his hands had been reduced to crumbles, and he dropped them on his plate in disgust. ‘What about the others?’

‘I don’t know.’ Harry fervently wished that Hermione was here, but she was somewhere in Australia with Ron, and had been incommunicado for a while now. On the other hand, part of him was very grateful that she wasn’t in England, because if she found out what he had done, she would probably never talk to him again. ‘The thing is, the Wizengamot is not interested in anything that could help the defendant. I mean, there is no defense. I don’t get that, really. I mean, when I was accused, I had Dumbledore to defend me, but aren’t there any lawyers in the Wizarding world?’ He realized he was rambling, but it was something that had been bothering him ever since the trials begun. He had to admit that he did not know anything about criminal trials except from what he had seen in Dumbledore’s pensive and what he remembered from TV shows Dudley had been watching when he was a kid, but it felt wrong that there was no-one to defend the accused.

Draco smiled a little, but he was pale. ‘Not as such. A member of the Wizengamot can argue for the defense, like Dumbledore did, but in general the Wizengamot expects the DMLE to present an unbiased case with all evidence in favor and against.’

‘That means the DMLE is the problem.’

‘I would say both the DMLE and the Wizengamot are the problem, but the DMLE more so. If they would present all the evidence, the Wizengamot would have to listen to them, because they are by law required to consider the defendant innocent until proven guilty, and I don’t think they are all corrupt. The DMLE on the other hand… Harry, you realize most of them worked for the ministry while the Dark Lord was in power, do you? They claim now they had no choice, that they only did what they were ordered to do, but that’s codswallop. They chose to go along with Thickness’s orders. Now they have every reason to cover up their involvement in the uglier part of the Dark Lord’s reign.’

‘I really wished you would call him Voldemort,’ Harry said, and Draco flinched. ‘Or even Tom Riddle.’ He knew Draco was right. If only Tonks and Shacklebolt had lived, maybe things would be different now. He was disgusted by those cowards in the Ministry who had never protested against Voldemort’s orders and had even done their best to implement them. Those same people who had rounded up muggleborns and put them on trial for stealing magic were now collecting evidence against Death Eaters, pretending they were never involved. They were probably the same people who had put Sirius in jail without a trial, who had denied Voldmort’s return and had called Harry and Dumbledore insane. How could there ever be justice, if those people never changed?

‘All the trials are going to be unfair, you can’t prevent that.’

‘Yes, but there has to be something I can do…’

Draco clenched his hands around the armrests of his chair. ‘Not unless you want to claim all of them, there isn’t.’

Harry froze.

Draco looked at him. ‘No. No!’ he said. ‘I know what you are thinking, but that’s insane. Most of them _are_ guilty. They won’t thank you, they will stab you in the back faster than you can say snitch!’

‘Yes, I know, but…’ Harry’s thoughts were racing, and he knew that it was probably stupid, but he could not do nothing if he could do something. ‘We don’t have to let them go. We can just imprison them somewhere until they have a fair trial. I mean, that’s better than them being dead, right? At least they get a chance to defend themselves.’

‘And when will that be?’ Draco argued. ‘The ministry has been corrupt as long as we have been alive, and it won’t change any time soon. And where do you plan to imprison them? There have to be dozens of Death Eaters who haven’t been tried yet.’

That was a good question. ‘Do we own any such place, Kreacher?’ Harry asked. Kreacher appeared, pretending he had not been listening as Harry knew he had. The elf had become much more friendly and helpful since Harry had destroyed the locket, but he was still incorrigibly noisy.

‘Master owns a number of places that can host many guests, Master, ‘ Kreacher said with a bow and a slightly chiding undertone. ‘As Master would know if Master had read the estate statements Gringotts sent last month. If Master is looking for a place to imprison criminals, I would suggest taking a closer look at Captain’s Keep on Black Island. It has been unused during the last century, but it has been maintained and is perfectly habitable. It also includes a very fine vineyard.’

‘Black Island?’ Harry asked confused. ‘Is that an island? I mean, do I own an island?’ He should know if he owned an island, shouldn’t he?

‘Yes, Master. Black Island has been in the Black family since 1561 when Captain Howard Black was knighted by Queen Mary and gifted the island for his service to the crown.’

Harry gaped at him. He had half a dozen questions regarding that answer, beginning with the question how a wizard came to be knighted by a muggle queen, but there were more important issues at hand. Kreacher’s disapproval of his ignorance was radiating out of him like a dark and stormy cloud, and Harry hoped he wouldn’t burn breakfast the next morning. ‘Well, that’s good to know,’ he said, and turned to Draco. ‘See, there is a way to make this work.’

Draco looked at him as if he was insane. ‘Make this work? Do you even know what you are saying? Do you want to create your own Azkaban? Who is going to guard them?’

‘The spell would, wouldn’t it?’ Harry said, warming up to his idea the more he was talking about it. ‘I could just order them to stay there and they wouldn’t be able to leave.’

‘How would they eat? They will need clothes and bedding and lots of other stuff because you won’t be willing to just let them rot. Who will take care of them? Prisoners aren’t just statues you put somewhere and forget; they are living beings. It’s going to be time consuming and expensive!’

‘Well, I guess there are elves there.’ Harry looked at Kreacher, who nodded. ‘And I don’t think a bit of food and clothing is going to ruin me.’

Draco considered him. ‘I think this is a crazy idea, but I can see you won’t be deterred now that it’s hatched.’ He wearily dragged is fingers through his hair. ‘Very well. We have to think this through. The ministry won’t be happy when you start claiming all the Death Eaters. They will move against you sooner or later.’

‘Let’s not cross our bridges before we come to them. We don’t know what they will do. We should concentrate on what we do now. Have a look at this island. If the ministry makes a move against me we will deal with it. They can’t change the old laws.’

Draco sighed. ‘They can do plenty of things to make our lives difficult, but alright. I guess that’s as good a start as any.’ He leant back and Harry realized suddenly how tired he looked.

‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said. ‘We can discuss everything else tomorrow. Kreacher has…’ Draco’s eyes widened, anxious, and Harry stopped. Kreacher had prepared a guestroom for him, but it was more than obvious he wouldn’t want to sleep there. ‘Kreacher has probably some more useful information.’ Harry saw Draco relax and was glad he had been right. ‘Will you join me?’

Draco rose immediately and followed him when he walked to his bedroom. When he opened the door he felt suddenly self-conscious. This was Regulus’ old room which had been refurbished. It had a four-poster, because it had reminded Harry of Hogwarts, and a wardrobe and a stand for his new owl. Harry had not wanted an owl, but his business with Gringotts had required it. He had sent Kreacher to get some random brown owl, and had named it Owl for lack of imagination. Owl appeared when he needed it, but was otherwise rarely in the house. ‘What do you think?’ he asked, and could have kicked himself a moment later.

Draco raised an eyebrow, and studied the room. ‘It’s quaint,’ he said finally. ‘Very… you.’

‘What does that mean, it’s _quaint_?’ asked Harry defensively. ‘I suppose your bedroom at Malfoy Manor was four times this size or something?’

‘Or something,’ Draco said with a crooked smile. He took off his robe and stretched out on the bed. ‘It’s nice Harry. Don’t worry, I know you have no standards.’

Harry took a deep breath and took off his own robe to lie down next to him. ‘Are you incapable of being nice, or do you still want to be punished?’ Draco was a master in provoking him when he wanted to be hurt.

The blond smiled. ‘I’m just honest. I also like to tease you. You are so easily provoked.’ He kissed Harry’s hand. ‘You are so pretty when provoked.’

‘Well, I’m tired.’ Harry pulled the duvet over them. ‘Be nice and quiet for once.’

‘As you wish,’ Draco whispered, and cuddled closer to him. ‘Good night, Harry.’

Harry kissed his temple. ‘Good night, my dragon.’


	11. Light a candle, light a motive

Loki walked through the garden. It was a beautiful summer’s day. The night had been cold, and the fresh air lingered, but you could feel the heat waiting for midday to reach its peak.

Birds and insects were using this time to search for food and play, and the garden felt as alive as Idun’s had been. Loki wondered for a moment if he missed Asgard. He would be a fool to deny that he missed some things. Frigga, he would always yearn for, but she was gone. He had enjoyed the beauty of Idun’s garden, and the quietness of the library. He had enjoyed the power that came with being Odin’s son, the grudging respect even those who disliked him had to show him. There had been more than enough of those. But he had never felt at home in Asgard. Now he wondered if that was because part of him had always known that it wasn’t his home, that he had been stolen from his true home. On the other hand, he could not imagine feeling at home in Jotunheim, either. He liked the vibrant life of the warmer realms, and had become used the comforts of a temperate climate. He felt no connection to the Jotnar, and had no idea what he would say to them, or what they might have in common aside from bloodlust and a delight in destruction.

He could feel the Midgardian following him and felt amused that the man thought he could hide from him. Potter had forbidden him to use his magic, but he was a centuries old god and warrior, he had other advantages over mortals. He walked into the undergrowth, and chuckled when he heard the wizard curse under his breath. It was easy to hide between the trees, and he stepped out from his hiding place when the man walked past him.

‘Looking for someone?’

Lucius jumped, and turned around, visibly angry about his lapse. ‘Are you pretending to be a dryad?’

‘Merely enjoying the scenery and the wildlife.’

Lucius looked at the shrubs surrounding them with a sarcastically raised eyebrow. ‘If you are very fascinated by ticks, perhaps.’

Loki smiled. ‘A fascination you share, I assume.’

‘I was following you’ Lucius said bluntly. ‘You have obviously noticed that. If you wish to wander around, someone should show you the estate first. There are places on this island you should better avoid.’

Loki studied him. He had observed the island before he had shown himself to Potter. The scrying stone had told him this place was what he was looking for, and it had taken him some time to understand why. He had asked the stone because he had hoped that there was a way to escape his fate. The stone’s answer had made him realize there wasn’t one. He could only accept it and deal with it in the way he did best. Potter was the answer to his question, just not in a way he had expected.

‘Why don’t you show me’ he said.

Lucius seemed surprised at his easy acquiescence, but nodded sharply. ‘Follow me.’

‘From what I understand you have a position of responsibility here.’ Loki was curious about Lucius. He knew Potter did not really like the man, but he had made him a member of his council. Was that only because he was Draco’s father?

‘Our master has asked me to manage the more… unpleasant… parts of his business. He realized after a while that it was wise to delegate.’

They walked out of the forest into a pasture where sheep were grazing. The manor house was on top of a hill, and from their standpoint they could look down to the sea and the vineyard that stretched across the adjoining hills. Closer to the sea Loki could also see fig trees and olive trees on the steeper hills. A huge ancient stone house stood in the valley. ‘Is that Captain’s Keep?’ Loki asked.

‘Yes.’ Lucius started walking downhill. ‘That is where most of the slaves live.’

‘How many are there by now?’ Loki asked.

‘Forty-two, including those who live in the manor.’

‘That is less than I thought.’

Lucius shrugged. ‘He mostly claimed the ones who got death sentences. Once the Wizengamot realized what he was doing they stopped sentencing Death Eaters to death by default, and there were a lot of unmarked followers who got only minor sentences.’

‘A successful strategy, then.’

‘Yes.’

‘How many of them chose prison?’

‘Only eight. They are imprisoned in the basement of the Keep. I would show you but it was walled off. Only the house elves and Potter can reach it.’

This explained why Loki hadn’t noticed the prison before. It must be warded in a way that had escaped his attention.

‘The other slaves all work in the vineyard?’

‘Yes, and in the winery, the farm, and the oil mill.’ Lucius studied the house in front of them. ‘In the beginning our master planned to imprison all of us in the house, but he quickly realized that didn’t work. When people are bored, they start fights, and those fights quickly turned ugly. Even without magic there are creative ways to hurt someone, and it is not as if any of us were friends. We were allies – fragile allies, who gave our alliance to the most powerful. In a place like this, the most powerful is the most vicious. The group that followed me was composed of somewhat more reasonable individuals, but we wouldn’t have lasted long if he hadn’t intervened. I expect my son had a hand in that.’

He smiled thinly.

‘It benefits you that your son is in our master’s favor’ Loki said without looking at Lucius. ‘I can understand why you support his situation.’

Lucius stiffened. ‘I see the benefits of it, yes. Did I want my son to become a pampered catamite? No, but I realize that he enjoys it. Draco never had the nature of a leader. My wife and I spoiled him and neglected to teach him how to wield power. He is good at manipulation, I give him that, and if he was a woman, I would congratulate myself on a job well done. As it is, I suppose it is the best I could hope for.’ He turned around and looked at Loki. ‘That said, I realize that you can give Potter something my son cannot, and that Draco is for some reason convinced that you will not try to replace him. I would call it naiveté, but my son is not naïve. He is merely blinded by love to think that Potter will never place his affections elsewhere. I’m too cynical to believe that. Let me tell you this – I might be disappointed in some of my son’s choices, but I want him to be happy. I don’t have the power I once had, and even if I had I realize that I would have little recourse against you. Nevertheless, if my son is hurt because of you, I promise you that I will do my utmost best to end you.’

Loki studied Lucius with interest. He had started to get angry at the beginning of his speech, because he had heard similar words many times. However, Lucius obviously loved his son even though he disapproved of his nature. Somehow, he could support him even though he disagreed with the way Draco chose to live his life. That was something Loki had never had.

He was suddenly envious. What had Draco done to be so favored? To be so easily accepted? Maybe he should take it away from him.

Loki took a deep breath. He yearned to destroy this pretty boy, but that was a dangerous path, and ill-advised at the moment. Potter _did_ love Draco. It would be foolish to get between them so early in the game.

‘I’ll take that into consideration’, he said flippantly, and Lucius frowned.

‘Do.’ He turned away and gestured to the valley. ‘I have worked in all of these places before I became manager of the estate. Some of it was punishment; mostly it was to experience it myself before I sent others to do it. We started out with the vineyard. Part of it had been maintained by the house elves, and we expanded it. When the wine sold well, we looked into olive oil production and it has been very successful. Aside from that we try to be self-sufficient. The farm meets all of our food needs, and thanks to Severus we grow most herbal potions ingredients in the back garden of the manor and produce and sell a number of potions. By now, the estate earns a healthy profit. Something that is not only financially wise, but also politically convenient. It is easier to explain slaves when they are actually useful.’

‘I can see that’ Loki said. It also inspired envy. He had noticed the dislike other wizards harbored for Potter. There was a reason this island was unplottable. At first, Potter had been merely disliked for helping Death Eaters escape the justice of the Wizengamot, but then he had had the insolence earn money with it when most had hoped it would ruin him. More than that, he continued to be involved in politics, and his children through Draco would get him yet another Wizengamot seat in addition to the Potter and Black seats he already held. He had a number of allies, mostly people who had fought with him in the final battle, but would that be enough?

‘Do you think this will last?’ he asked.

Lucius did not bother to ask what he meant. ‘Our master has made smart decisions so far, and he listens to his advisors. Success will always inspire enemies. I think that given the right strategy, this will last for a very long time. If he is ruthless enough to employ it remains to be seen.’ He turned around to Loki. ‘Maybe you will be able to help with that.’

Loki smiled, surprised. He had not looked at it like that, but of course that was something he could do. It was also something that would make his existence significantly less boring. ‘What an intriguing thought’, he said. ‘Maybe I will.’


	12. Those who favor fire

Potter kissed him. Slowly, carefully, like stalking a frightened hare. Loki enjoyed the hands moving over his bare skin. ‘Suck me,’ he said.

Potter moved slowly down, between his spread legs.

Loki marveled at his effortless obedience. This was easier; it let him feel in control, even though he was not. He watched Draco, who was kneeling at the end of the bed, his arms tied behind him, watching them. A spider gag held his mouth wide open.

He felt Potter’s lips closing around his cock, moving up and down. Loki imagined pushing Draco down, forcing his cock into his mouth while he lay helpless, fucking him until he choked. He licked his lips and Draco eyed him hungrily, as if he knew what he was thinking. Maybe he did. Loki remembered that the blond was a legilimens. He deliberately imagined putting the same gag on Potter, tying his hands to his back, wrist to elbow, until his chest stuck out like Draco’s did right now, tight, almost painful. He would not be used to it like Draco was, he would struggle. Loki would tie his ankles to both sides of the bed, his legs spread wide apart, place a pillow under his shoulders so that he could tilt his head back. Then he would force Draco to ride him while he fucked his mouth. Potter would have trouble breathing, he would buck and trash while Draco tried to stay on top of him, and Loki would kiss Draco while his master struggled for air, grab his dick and get him off while Potter was fighting them.

Draco was panting. His cock was hot and swollen, straining against the ring that prevented him from coming. He struggled against the restrains that held him in place, desperate tears streaming down his face. Loki smirked. The slave had liked that fantasy.

Potter hummed, oblivious. The tip of his tongue drew circles on the underside of Loki’s cock, then he moved back and licked around it, licked his balls, and then pushed lower to the other entrance behind it. Loki gasped. He could be male or female, but he had always preferred to be both. Now he knew that this was not only because it felt wicked, and because he enjoyed the shocked expressions in his lovers’ faces when they noticed, but also because Jotun were naturally both. Potter took him back into his mouth and pushed a finger into the slick entrance, twisted. Loki trashed involuntarily when heat pooled in his belly and rushed up his spine. Potter put a hand on his hip to keep him down, but he did not mind. He grabbed the metal bars of the headboard and keened, his mouth open in a soundless scream. He came, but it felt incomplete, unfinished. ‘Please,‘ he begged. ‘Please.’

He had not even known what he was begging for until Potter suddenly pushed into him, and he screamed again because it was painful, and because it was glorious. He had never before done this in this form. He had not shown it to Angrboda, afraid for some reason he only now understood, and his other lovers had been too shocked to even contemplate it. Potter suddenly turned them around so that Loki lay on top of him, and Loki did not understand at first, until Draco was suddenly behind him, and his cock slammed into his ass with a viciousness that could only be revenge for the fantasy he had used to torment him. It slid in smoothly, suggesting that he had used wandless magic to lubricate him, and Loki felt an abrupt burst of anger that the boy could do something he could not, before all thought was lost in sensation.

‘Yes,’ Potter gasped, stroking his hand up and down Loki’s tigh. ‘This is it.’

Loki only gasped. He could think of nothing, only feel. They both moved together, pushing, filling him, and there was suddenly a thought… _this… this will work_ … and then heat rushed through him and he screamed, pain and pleasure intertwining in a frantic crescendo that filled all of his awareness until nothing else was left, frozen for a timeless moment, and then everything turned black.

.

When Loki woke, he could feel the whispering song of life inside him, and he smiled despite the pain. He opened his eyes and looked into Potter’s concerned eyes. ‘Give me permission,’ he rasped.

Potter seemed confused, but Draco appeared beside him, his eyes wide in astonishment. ‘Already?’ He pushed Harry. ‘Do it!’

‘What?’ Potter asked confused.

‘He is using magic to sustain the child, you fool!’ Draco shouted, and Loki smiled again at Potter’s horrified and elated look.

‘Yes…’ Potter stammered. ‘Of course, you have my permission to use your magic to carry and bear mine and Draco’s children, Loki. And to conceive them,’ he added as an afterthought.

He was less a fool than he seemed, Loki thought, breathing a sigh of relief when the pain that had paralyzed him disappeared. Useful to know, though, that he could use his magic at a price. He wondered if that was only possible because he had used it according to his master’s wishes, or if he could do more interesting things, should it be necessary. He was very tempted to try it, but he would not risk his child that way. Once it was born, however… He smirked.

Potter and Draco did not see it; they were kissing as if he didn’t exist. Before bitterness could set in, they separated, and Potter bowed down to kiss him with equal intensity. For a moment, Loki was frozen in surprise, then he returned the kiss. ‘Thank you,’ Potter said, looking down at him with something Loki was afraid to name. ‘You don’t know how much this means to me. You are giving me a priceless gift, and I will never forget that.’ Out of the corner of his eye, Loki saw a fleeting expression of pain flicker over Draco’s face, which was gone when Potter turned around and pulled him closer. He took Draco’s hand, without really knowing why. Draco smiled at him, with a hint of sadness. ‘Thank you, Loki. I, too, am grateful.’

He pulled Draco down until he lay next to him, and they both looked up to Potter, their heads touching. ‘Our child,’ he said, putting Draco’s hand on his belly. ‘He will have something of our master, and something of you, and maybe a little bit of me, because he was made of you, and my blood and magic will nourish him. He will be _magnificent_.’ He looked into Potter’s astonished eyes. ‘I want something in return for this, my Master.’

‘Anything you wish,’ Potter said with a besotted smile, and Draco twitched beside him. What he could do with this, Loki thought. This was the way to own Potter, as Draco had told him. It would give him power he had not dared to dream of a few days ago. He knew exactly how he would use it.

‘I will not be a mere concubine,’ he said. ‘For this, you will make me and Draco consorts.’

Draco turned around, staring at him.

Potter on the other hand seemed confused. ‘I don’t understand… what’s the difference?’

Loki closed his eyes, fighting a mix of anger and the temptation to laugh. Was Potter truly this ignorant? He had to know at least some of the customs of his world for what he had done… claiming the Death Eaters as slaves, setting up a court, becoming a duke of the realm. Loki knew those traditions, and he had only read a few books to better understand what he was getting into.

‘He means that you should marry us,’ Draco said, his voice a bit breathless. ‘I don’t know if that is wise…’

‘That is possible? I mean, you are men, and you are… the both of you?’

Potter really was that ignorant. He sounded completely out of his depth, so lost that Loki almost pitied him. He opened his eyes and looked at Draco, whose face was contorted in a grimace. He realized two things in that moment: One, that it had been Draco who had orchestrated all of this, and two, that the the blond man had hoped that his lover would learn about this particular tradition on his own, and that he really didn’t want to explain it to him.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Would you not like that? Two bound consorts kneeling at your feet? Right now, the world thinks Draco is nothing but a plaything, one that is easily discarded if you tire of it. If I am to be the mother of your child, they should know that we will never be replaced. Is that too much to ask?’

‘Of course not!’ Potter took both their hands. ‘I would like that, but… in a marriage… we should be equals.’

Draco closed his eyes and Loki realized there was another reason why he had not told Potter. He had known that this would happen, that Potter would be reluctant to agree to the sort of consort bond Loki had thought of. Loki was elated. This was more than he had hoped for.

‘It can be,’ he said. ‘There are different types of bonds. It would be unwise to let everyone know the nature of that bond, of course. We are your slaves, after all. It could be dangerous to elevate us into a position of power. If we do this, we have to pretend that you bound us to subservience.’

‘Don’t do this!’ Draco said suddenly. ‘Don’t you realize he is manipulating you? If you do this, and something happens to you, he will inherit everything because he carried your heir. We will both be free, but he will be dowager.’

The little boy thought he would instigate Potter’s death, Loki thought amusedly. Very clever. It was what he would have done if he had not known that Potter was immortal. As it was, he only wanted the power the knowledge of the possibility would bring.

‘ _You_ are the other father of his child,’ Loki said. ‘You should be dowager, Draco, and he only has to name you first consort.’

Draco’s face twisted in horrible indecision. ‘I don’t want us to be _equals_ ,’ he whispered. ‘It’s not…’

Potter took him in his arms. ‘You are mine,’ he said. ‘If I wish to claim you as consort, that won’t change. If I wish to name you first consort, that won’t change. You will explain to me what it means, and you will tell me what you need. You will help me choose a bonding ceremony that will satisfy both what I want, and what you need.’

‘Yes, Master,’ whispered Draco, leaning against him.

Loki studied them. That was the other side of it, he thought. Draco needed Potter as much as Potter needed him.

Potter looked at him over Draco’s shoulder. ‘You were trying to manipulate me, weren’t you?’

Loki hesitated, and Potter’s eyes narrowed. ‘Yes,’ he said hastily, ‘but not in the way he suggested.’

‘The next time, you will tell me plainly what you want. If you try this again, I will punish you.’

He did not order him, Loki noticed. It was almost a challenge. ‘Yes, Master,’ he said, smiling. He looked down, then up again. ‘I want to be your consort because it will ensure my position at your side. It will give me some amount of power, and it will be a bit of insurance that you will not keep my children from me.’

Potter nodded, and looked at Draco. ‘I will consider it.’

Loki opened his mouth to protest, and then thought better of it. Potter would not decide anything before talking to Draco. It would be useless to push, and in any case, he was sure he had gotten what he wanted. Potter wanted Draco to be consort, now that he knew the possibility existed, and he would keep his promise to him. They would both be his consorts, but unlike Loki, Draco would not live forever. One day, Potter’s world would crumble and his titles would become insignificant, but Loki would still be his. Then, perhaps, he would remind him of his promise.


End file.
